


Old Stories Made New

by danicoro



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Sweethearts, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Non-Graphic Violence, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Period-Typical Racism, Rescue, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Smut, Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2018-10-23 00:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 78,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10708740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danicoro/pseuds/danicoro
Summary: London, 1868. At the height of the second Industrial Revolution, a seemingly-unending war is fought in the shadows. Against the backdrop of Templar-controlled London, two young lovers are determined to make something good. Together, they fight to make a better future for London—and themselves.





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _From the journals of Jacob Frye, dated 30 January 1866_

_Forty-seven days._

_It would seem like such a trivial amount of time, but for the fact that I’ve spent every one of them wondering: what happened to her?_

_Each day feels like a lifetime._

_She left with father on that Friday afternoon, and we have heard nothing of her since._

_It’s past half one in the morning. I can only seem to sleep when exhaustion finally takes me._

_It has always been easy to think of her, but since that day when I last saw her, it’s a torment. She haunts my thoughts, now._

_I recall more halcyon days, when she was still here with us—with me. I think of what we had together, all of the things we had done, and things we had yet to do. All the plans we had made… all of it, now gone to dust._

_I ache for the loss of her. It’s as if I’ve lost a part of myself._

_I suppose I have._

_I loved her. With every piece of my heart, I loved her._

_I still do._

_Some of our memories I can recall as vividly as if I had experienced them just yesterday. Others are foggier, but she remains steadfast in all of them._

_Ellie. My girl. My sweetheart._

_Where are you now, love? What happened to you?_

_I ask the questions to these pages, as if I might divine some answers here. As if I might ever find the answers I seek._

_The first time we met, it was a warm afternoon in July._

_She had just arrived to England from India a few weeks earlier, with her parents. The three of them had returned with our father, whom Evie and I had only just met, ourselves. He brought us along to her parents’ estate to meet them._

_I have always found English summers to be warm, but I remember watching her tug at her mother’s trouser leg._

_“Mum, I’m cold,” she whispered. Her mother hushed her, and wrapped her up in a little woolen shawl. She smiled gratefully. Such a radiant smile, even then._

_She stuck her hand out towards us._

_“Hello! I’m Ellie. You must be Evie and Jacob? Your father told me about you.”_

_“Hello, Ellie,” Evie said, shaking Ellie’s hand. I was next. I was curious how she could find it cold, but I was more curious about the scar on her lip, still red and raw._

_“What happened to your face?” I asked her as we shook hands. Evie elbowed my ribs, and I would get an earful from my father for that later on. Ellie didn’t bat an eyelash._

_“I fell out of a tree,” she said with a broad smile, as if she were proud of it._

_The three of us were sent out into the gardens to play under the watch of Ellie’s nursemaid, Anita. Ellie threw off her shoes and shawl at the threshold, and dashed outside, up into the boughs of a giant willow. I found it bizarre—hadn’t she just said she’d fallen out of a tree?_

_We followed after her. Eager as we were, we couldn’t keep up. She came back down to help, offering her hand, and kind words of encouragement._

_“Here, take my hand, I’ll pull you up.”_

_“Won’t you fall?” I remember being nervous. I thought that if she took my hand, she’d surely lose her grip, and we’d both go toppling out of the tree._

_“You can trust me,” she said, crossing over her heart. “I promise, I won’t let you fall.”_

_She was so assured. I can’t say why, but I did. I trusted her._

_I took her hand, and she hauled me up onto the branch next to her, then reached for Evie._

_As we climbed up further, she got away from us again. She coaxed us higher._

_“Put your foot in the knot there—yes, that’s it. See? You’re doing just fine.”_

_We both climbed higher than we had meant to, spurred on by her encouragement. She made it all the way to the highest boughs before realising we had stopped much further down, too nervous to climb any higher into the younger branches._

_Evie and I pressed close to the trunk. I looked to Ellie, tiny and fearless little thing she was, as she swung and hopped down the branches back to us._

_“Are you alright?” She asked. We both nodded, but it was Evie who spoke._

_“How can you do that?”_

_Ellie smiled with mischief as she sat down next to me, then reached into the pocket of her trousers and pulled out an old shilling._

_“Here,” she said, showing it to us._

_“What’s that?” I asked._

_“My good luck charm! My friend gave it to me. I always keep it with me. It keeps me safe.”_

_“Would you lend it to me so I can get down?” I mumbled._

_She smiled. “You can borrow it, if you think it’ll help, but I know you can do it on your own.”_

_There was no doubt in her voice. I believed her._

_I don’t know why her kindness surprised me, but it did._

_I quickly learned that Ellie was, at her core, genuinely kind. I had seen adults be kind to others with an expectation of reciprocity, even as a child. Ellie was kind for the sake of it._

_Growing with her, one also learned that she was never too proud or too stubborn to offer help, or to ask for it, however rare the latter was. Her parents had already begun her training in India, so she already outpaced us by some two years by then. She had trained under our father for a time, as well._

_Evie and I were around age eight when we began the practice of climbing things besides trees. Ellie was still ahead of us, but attended our lessons from time to time. She offered bits of advice and tricks to help us improve when she could, and praise or encouragement when she couldn’t._

_“Stay closer to the wall when you climb. Yes, exactly like that. Very good.”_

_“The strength of your grip has improved. It shows in how quickly you can climb, now. Well done.”_

_I hung on to her every word then, as I continued to for years thereafter. I was as eager to hear her advice as her praise._

_I must have been about nine years old when I learned to love the sound of her laugh. As the three of us grew and learned more each day, we often fumbled and made mistakes—as children are wont to do. We all did, the three of us, but when she made a misstep, she would laugh._

_“I’ll try again, and do better next time,” she would always say._

_I remember Evie and I trying to emulate her enthusiasm. My father made that difficult as he pressed us harder, but we persisted. She always looked so pleased whenever she succeeded at a task, but just as much when I or Evie did, too. I refused to squander the gift of her bright smile._

_My next memories are around the practice of learning to fight properly. We were eleven, I think._

_I had begun to catch up to Ellie in martial ability, though I had room for improvement yet—she still surpassed me on most days._

_I wondered then, as I do now, if she didn’t throw some of the matches I won in those days, just to give me more confidence. I wonder whether she would ever admit to it, if I asked?_

_Watching her spar was always a pleasure. A finesse fighter, always, she was so graceful._

_It was a knack I could never quite pick up, no matter how hard she tried to teach me._

_She never put me down for that, though. Instead, she focused on other things I did well—how strong I was, my resourcefulness, my ability to come back. I reveled in such praise. I didn’t realise until later that I needed it._

_I needed her._

_It was at fourteen when I realised that I was falling in love with her. Our friendship had always been effortless and natural, but I knew there was more I wanted. When I brought up my feelings for her to my father, he told me to stay silent._

_“Don’t bother her with it—it’s a passing fancy, Jacob. She’s familiar, that’s all. You’ll move on to someone more suitable soon enough.”_

_I kept my feelings to myself, more out of fear of rejection than of obedience to my father. Concealing them made no difference—they continued to grow on their own, and I still recall the excited flutter in my stomach whenever I was with her._

_It didn’t matter whether she was telling me one of her grand stories, or smiling at me across a room, or demonstrating a manoeuvre. It became a pleasant ache as time wore on, and while unsettling in the beginning, I was happy to let it stay. I wanted it to stay._

_I wanted to stay with her._

_In the late muck of that winter, she told me she was to go away with her parents—a sabbatical for her mother, whose health was ailing at the time._

_“Where are you going?” I asked._

_“To Portugal,” she said. “We’re to stay with Anita’s family, in the Douro Valley.”_

_It didn’t really matter to me where she was going; I only knew that I ached at the thought of being without her._

_For eight years, we had stood side by side. I couldn’t imagine her no longer being there._

_It’s only temporary, I told myself. She’ll be back when her mother’s recovered._

_What if she doesn’t? What if they stay in Portugal forever? Better to tell her now. Let her know._

_I held my tongue. I took her hand and told her, “I’ll miss you, Ellie.”_

_She smiled at me, but I could see it was forced—it didn’t reach her eyes. I convinced myself I was imagining it, but it seemed like a sad longing in her gaze. I held my breath._

_She embraced me, and said, “Don’t worry, Jacob. I’ll write often, I promise.”_

_After a pause, I remember the fluttering feeling in my chest when she softly added: “I’ll miss you, too.”_

_Such things could go unsaid, for the both of us. And yet…_

_When I went to Crawley Station to see her off with my father and sister, I was melancholy. She embraced me again._

_“I have something for you, darling. A parting gift,” she said, her smile filled with mischief. I was curious—what sort of gift could she have for me? I wasn’t too proud to be eager to see what it was. She offered me a small pouch, and I took it._

_“Should I open it now?” I asked in a conspiratorial whisper, glancing over my shoulder to my father and Evie, who were distracted by her parents._

_She nodded, looking hopeful. I tugged on the drawstrings and emptied the contents into my hand, and I remember the hard, unyielding lump that formed in my throat when I laid eyes on it._

_It was a shilling._

_“Is this…?” I stared at her, and couldn’t finish my sentence, overwhelmed and embarrassed at the quake in my voice. She had put a hole through it, and attached it to a cord._

_She smiled, but looked a little nervous, too. “It is. I thought perhaps you might be able to make better use of it in the coming days,” she said._

_I remember trying to swallow around the lump in my throat. My eyes were wet, and I couldn’t meet her gaze. She held my hands in her own as she went on._

_“I thought it might be pertinent to make sure it was difficult for you to lose. Take care of it for me, will you?”_

_It was given under the pretense of safekeeping, but I knew that if she had just wanted to keep it safe, she wouldn’t have given it to me at all—it was safer with her than it ever would have been with me. I looked at her, my chest aching to do it, though I’d managed to fight off my tears._

_“I’ll keep it safe,” I promised with a stalwart nod. Ellie smiled brightly, but she giggled at me. She must have thought it funny, how serious I was being all of a sudden._

_“I hope you will,” she said, taking the cord to secure it around my neck. Her fingers brushed against it where it sat on my collar, and I felt heat rising in my cheeks under her touch. She looked a little flustered as she spoke, her voice hardly more than a whisper._

_“I’d like to think of this as part of me staying with you. So, even if we’re apart, we’ll still be together. I hope that’s alright?”_

_Again, I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. I wanted to speak, but what could I say? I nodded._

_She smiled, and I could see the relief on her features as she took my hands and squeezed them. The movement of leaning forward to put a kiss on her cheek was unconscious—it felt natural, even. I don’t know whether I imagined it, but I remember at the time that it seemed as if she had leaned into it. She didn’t shy away, at any rate, but we both seemed to realise at the same moment what had happened._

_We froze, waiting to hear the shouts of my father, or her parents. We heard only silence, but for the bustling crowds around us. I glanced over my shoulder—my father and her parents were still speaking. Only Evie, whose hand drew to her mouth in surprise, had seen what had happened. I turned back to Ellie. She was flustered as she spoke._

_“Please take care of yourself, Jacob,” she said, squeezing my hands again before we finally parted. As she walked away from me, I wanted to throw my arms around her, and beg her to stay._

_Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me behind._

_Again, I held my tongue._

_To consider that moment now, I realise how deeply entrenched my feelings were for her. I loved her then, as I love her now. As I always will._

_I missed her so fiercely, even as we wrote often. Evie and I had both relied on Ellie in many ways—as a friend, as a confidante, even as a mentor of a kind. She was my best friend after Evie, and I think Evie looked at her the same way._

_I could tell Evie missed her just as much as I did. We leaned on each other more than usual, in Ellie’s absence. As time wore on, though, Evie began to form a bond with our father that he and I lacked. She began to lean on me less, even as I leaned on her more._

_“When will you return?” I wrote to Ellie each time._

_“Soon, I think,” she would always promise._

_At fifteen, in the dead of winter just before Christmas, I recall the shock and delight of receiving an invitation to her parents’ estate for a holiday gathering._

_She was finally back, and I was nearly beside myself with ineffable excitement in the days preceding the celebration. The day we were to attend her parents’ estate is a blur of preparations. I do remember my father scolding me endlessly, but I didn’t care—I was too eager to see her again. I wanted to hear her voice and listen to her stories, to see her face and that lovely smile._

_I don’t really remember a great deal about the other guests, or even what happened before Ellie arrived. She entered the drawing room—fashionably late, of course—but oh, what a picture she painted. I hardly recognised her at first for how different she looked. She was no longer a girl in presence nor in appearance, but a woman in both. She held herself like a queen, graceful and regal. Always quite small of stature, she still managed to cut a formidable figure in that cream-coloured gown._

_I know it’s rude to stare at anyone, and especially at a lady, but I couldn’t help myself, so in awe I was. She picked me out in the crowd of guests as if I were the only one in the room, and rushed towards me with an eager smile._

_To my delight—and the chagrin of my father and other nearby guests—she cast aside propriety and threw her arms around my neck. I caught her in my arms, and it was all I could do not to bury my face into the furrow of her shoulder._

_“It’s so good to see you!” She cried. She was so beautiful, as she always had been, and the faint smell of her jasmine oil made my heart swell with joy. Here she was again, finally. I had missed her so. She embraced Evie next._

_“How are you, Evie? Oh, I’ve missed you!” She said as she took Evie’s hands, then embraced her. The both of them were all smiles and laughter._

_“I’m well, Ellie. You must tell us more of the Douro Valley! Your letters were so beautifully crafted.”_

_Evie did always love a good story, didn’t she? Ellie nodded to her, then took a step back. The bright smile on her face reached her eyes as she turned back to me._

_Joy. Affection. Adoration._

_Surely that isn’t all for me? I thought. It didn’t matter—I was selfish enough then, just as I am now, to believe it was. She took my hands and I knew my cheeks were ruddy with colour when she did._

_“How are you, darling?” She asked. I couldn’t speak right away, so she went on. “I’ve missed you terribly. Come, you’ll tell me everything, won’t you?”_

_“You look lovely,” I stammered finally. What else could I have said? I was astounded by her. Evie elbowed my ribs, and I flinched, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Ellie._

_She smiled, gracious as ever. “Thank you, Jacob. Come, then, let’s all of us sit down and have a chat. I’ll tell you of my exploits in the Valley, and you can tell me all the things I’ve missed in Crawley.”_

_I only nodded, unconsciously giving her hand a squeeze. Ellie cast her gaze to me briefly at that, but smiled again as she led us both to a settee._

_I stayed quiet for most of the night thereafter. I listened, instead. She told story after story, and I don’t know if it was because I hadn’t heard her voice in so long, or if her voice had changed along with the rest of her, but it was immensely pleasant to hear her speak. I hung on her every word, as I often seemed to. Her stories were always a delight, and this was no exception. I listened to her tell stories of her time in the Valley, and new legends and fairy tales she had learned._

_I tried not to admire her too closely—the last thing I wanted was my father to drag me out on my ear, or for Evie to mock me. It wasn’t either of them who noticed, however, but rather Ellie herself. I remember how she flustered, and the anxiety I felt rise up in my throat._

_After a moment, she only smiled at me and took my hand, giving me a soft squeeze. The gentle affection in her eyes set me at ease. She looked and moved so differently, yet she was still the same girl with dark hair and freckles that I remembered._

_As the evening wore on, I found my frustration mounting. I wanted little more than to steal her away to speak privately. Not for any spectacular or ulterior reason, just that I wanted her to myself for a few minutes. To hear her voice only for me, and look at her without worrying if someone else was watching. Of course, such things are dreams, and I wasn’t so lucky that evening._

_As the night came to a close, our families exchanged their goodbyes. She and Evie exchanged theirs, and then Ellie turned to me. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pressed her face into the crook of my neck. I put my arms around her, and I saw Evie make a bit of a face as she turned away. pretending to be interested in something on the nearby shelves._

_Ellie stood back, and pressed her fingers against the shilling at my collar with an impish smile._

_“I see you’re still wearing it.”_

_I can’t be certain if she was trying to tease me or not, but it didn’t matter. I nodded, quite serious, even though my face was becoming rosy under her gaze._

_“Of course,” I said, suddenly very sure of myself. “I always want you with me.”_

_I meant it then, as I would mean it now. I always wanted her with me. It was a delight to watch how she flustered at that. My fondness for making her blush never left._

_We carried on together thereafter for some months. Her sabbatical to Portugal made me realise how much I cared for her—how much I wanted to be with her. How much I needed her. I didn’t want to have to imagine my life without her, ever again._

_It was at her sixteenth birthday, anxious as I was, that I decided I would confess. In a manner of speaking, at least._

_I managed to slip her away from the crowd of guests demanding her attention that night, under the guise of taking some air on the balcony. I could tell she had seen through my ploy, but she played along. As we reached the balcony outside of the ball room, she took my hand and asked me, “Is everything alright, Jacob?”_

_What could I say? I swallowed._

_“I’m very fond of you, you know,” I said. Rather, I blurted it out. I said it as if that should have been enough to make my intention clear. She looked perplexed, and tried to smile, but I could see the bewilderment in her expression._

_“I’m very fond of you, too, Jacob,” she assured me._

_“No, I mean… I’m fond of you,” I insisted._

_At the time, my fear of her rejection clouded my thoughts. I was so certain of a forthcoming refusal that my confession was made that much more difficult—even painful. I had already decided that she wouldn’t—couldn’t possibly—feel the same._

_She nodded as her brow furrowed. “Yes, I understand what being fond of someone means,” she replied. She squeezed my hand. “You seem like you’re upset, darling. What’s on your mind?”_

_“I mean, Ellie, that I’m fond of you in a way that… that a man is fond of a woman.” I tripped over my words as I spoke, hardly able to finish my sentence. It was embarrassing. It was terrifying._

_How else was I meant to say it? To say ‘I love you’ felt premature, and much too heavy a burden to lay upon her. Especially when I still hadn’t reconciled it, myself._

_After a moment, she smiled and started to laugh. Then she began to tremble. She didn’t say anything, but put her arms around my neck and drew me against her. I didn’t know what else to do, so I returned the gesture. She clung to me, and I couldn’t fathom what that meant._

_When she decided that she’d held me long enough, she stood back. Her smile was radiant, and it reached her eyes, but they were wet with tears. Fretful and worried, I reached out and wiped at the tears on her cheeks with my thumb. It was an unconscious action, and it seemed to startle her, which only made me more nervous._

_I was nearly frantic, distressed at the idea that this could have gone so wrong. I pulled out my kerchief, and she laughed out a sob as she took it, dabbing at her eyes as she took my hand._

_“I’m so glad, Jacob…” she took a breath as she looked at me. “I feel the same way.”_

_I froze._

_“What?”_

_She took my surprise graciously, laughing a little more as she nodded._

_“I’ve always been fond of you, darling,” she said, her voice quivering. “We’ve been friends nearly our entire lives, but…”_

_A beat passed as she glanced away. “There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”_

_My grip on her tightened. “Yes.”_

_It was all I could manage to say. I was overwhelmed. I was elated. I thought perhaps I might even be delirious._

_That she shared my feelings was more than I ever could have hoped for. I remember the swell in my chest as she put her arms around me again._

_I love you. Those words repeated themselves in my thoughts, over and over again. Not yet, I chided myself. It’s too much. It’s too soon._

_After a moment, she leaned back, but only far enough to press her forehead against mine. I looked at her, her eyes closed, and I felt her trembling._

_To hold her that way felt divine._

_She tilted her head and pressed a delicate kiss against my cheek. It was an innocent gesture, pure in its simplicity, but it closed a door for me. I was hers, and always would be, no matter if she chose me or not._

_“What’s going on here?” The demand of Evie’s voice interrupted our reverie. She’d snuck up on us, hands on her hips._

_The both of us scrambled to untangle ourselves, and Evie looked so stern that for a moment I believed she really was angry. When she saw that we were sufficiently mollified, she began to laugh._

_“Honestly, you two! You need to be more careful. What if it had been our parents, instead? Or one of the guests! Heaven forbid, there would have been a scandal!” Her voice was light, as if she were joking, but we all knew how serious she was._

_Ellie and I looked at each other, but neither of us could say anything. I knew my face was red, and I could feel my ears burning. I couldn’t see Ellie’s blush, but her expression betrayed her. Evie went on._

_“I am glad you finally decided to speak to each other. Listening to the both of you go on about the other in private all these years was beginning to grow tiring.” She was teasing us, but I still looked at her as if she’d betrayed me. Ellie started to laugh._

_“Yes, I’m sure it must be exhausting to listen to someone carry on about the person they fancy, Evie. Have you spoken to Nathaniel yet this evening?”_

_I had never seen my sister turn so red so quickly. She looked as if she had swallowed her tongue, and I couldn’t help my laugh. The tension dissolved as Ellie embraced her. We all laughed, at ourselves and each other._

_“Honestly…” Evie mumbled, but she still smiled at the both of us._

_She took Ellie’s hand and looked very serious all of a sudden. “Better if you come back with me, I think. You’ve been gone long enough that coming back with Jacob would raise eyebrows and turn heads, to be sure.” Ellie nodded her agreement, and Evie turned to me. “Jacob, wait a few minutes before you return to the ball room.”_

_I nodded—such an arrangement worked just fine for me. I needed some minutes to find my composure again._

_I had no idea what would happen next for us, but at that moment, it didn’t matter. All I cared was that she shared my feelings, and I was intent on not making her regret that._

_The months after that confession were slow for us. I don’t know whether she was apprehensive, or unsure, but we moved slowly with our affections. I was nervous of moving too quickly and scaring her off, but even more than that, I was nervous of doing something wrong._

_Physical affection was not new territory for either of us, having grown up doing these things, but they took on a different meaning in the aftermath of that evening. Much as things were just the same as they had always been, there were subtle differences now._

_The way our fingers twined when we held hands. The way we put our hands on one another when we embraced. Even the way we linked arms was different._

_I remember in the clearing of that spring, sitting together along Broadfield Brook. We had stolen away earlier in the afternoon to hide together under the shade of some trees. Ellie fidgeted with the buttons of my waistcoat, as she often did, and I played with the end of her braid, rolling it through my fingers._

_At a glance, there was nothing particularly special about that afternoon—it was much the same as many other afternoons we had shared with each other before then. I pressed a kiss against the top of her hair, and she looked at me, a little sleepy, but still that same soft, lovely smile._

_I drew my fingers up under her chin, and she spread her hand out over my chest, kneading her fingers into me like a cat. She glanced sidelong, and I knew she had something to say. I waited patiently, happy to let her come into it in her own time._

_She looked back at me finally, and I’m certain I could see the slight ruddiness beneath her freckles._

_“Would you kiss me, Jacob?”_

_Suddenly, the afternoon seemed very different._

_I kissed her, and she met me. It felt natural to do it, despite our inexperience. I remember the warmth that spread out over my body. I remember the small sound of delight she made._

_Loving her had always been effortless, and this was no exception._

_When we parted, we were both breathless. I cupped her cheek, brushing my thumb along her cheekbone. She smiled and turned into my hand, kissing my palm. The intimacy of that gesture, simple as it was, incited me._

_I love you. It was all I wanted to say to her, so that she understood—so that she knew._

_The progression of our intimacy in the aftermath of that first kiss remained slow, but we began to open ourselves up to more clandestine acts of congress. Moving from kissing to caresses, and then more meaningful touches was as exhilarating as it was nerve-wracking. I was eager to explore more of her body, and eager to let her explore more of mine._

_I remember the cold October afternoon when I came to call for tea, and her parents were summoned to the Estate by the Elders. They were hesitant to leave us alone—Anita and Barty were away in Portugal, and Constance was still out at the shops. Ellie charmed her parents, as she often did._

_“Don’t worry, mum. Connie will be back soon. Jacob and I will clean out the ovens, and start the fires in the scullery for supper.”_

_I believed her, just as her parents seemed to. My assumption was innocent, and perhaps that was for the best—if I’d had an inkling of her plan, I probably would’ve ruined it with my anticipation._

_“Very well, darling,” her mother said, leaving a kiss on Ellie’s forehead. “We’ll be back soon.” And with that, they departed, though her father did glance back at us a few times._

_They were both young once. Our fraternizing wasn’t exactly a secret, by then, but neither was it openly acknowledged. I can only assume they both suspected that we might not be going to the scullery right away._

_Ellie waited for a moment, watching through the parlour window as they climbed into a carriage and set off. As I began to roll my sleeves up in anticipation of cleaning the ovens, she surprised me by throwing her arms around my shoulders and kissing me._

_I stumbled, trying to catch her and kiss her without toppling to the floor._

_“Ellie?”_

_She laughed and kissed me again, then took my hand and pulled me towards the stairs. I didn’t resist, though I’m sure my bewilderment showed._

_“Aren’t we going to tidy the scullery?” I asked. Ellie stopped and looked at me, her grip on my hand slackening._

_“Oh. I’m sorry, I thought…” She looked terribly embarrassed, and I felt awful—what did I say?_

_The realisation dawned on me in that moment—how could I pass such an opportunity? Every time our bodies had met before then had been rushed and awkward, often in tight quarters, with little room or time to properly explore each other for fear of being discovered. Now, we had been left alone in comfort, though we didn’t know for how long. What did it matter? I was suddenly very, very eager to take advantage of the situation at hand._

_“Well… I’m sure the ovens won’t take that long to clean out…” I mumbled, trying to salvage things._

_She smiled, demure as always, but maybe it was a little wicked, too._

_That moment was a catalyst for us. In the aftermath of it, we gave ourselves over to passion at every opportunity. Being allowed to see more of her—not just her body, but her most private thoughts, too—was sacred to me._

_I miss her. Not only the shapes and curves and lines of her, but the sound of her voice. Her laugh, and the smell of her skin, the soft tresses of her hair. I miss the stormy green colour of her eyes. I could get lost in them, and often did, in our moments of solitude._

_I loved everything about her. I miss everything about her. I hate the very idea that she might be gone, yet some sinister part of me keeps shouting that she is. I can’t let go. I can’t believe she’s gone, but what other explanation is there?_

_My most recent—and perhaps most painful—memories are only some weeks ago, now. We had just turned eighteen. Ellie had pushed herself as hard as she could to be ready to take on her first target—she had to be blooded before the Council would approve of her going to London._

_Our father told Evie and I that we were training for the same purpose. I had assumed we would be going with her. Our birthday came and went, with no arrangements or discussions. Ellie’s birthday came, and within days, she had received her first mark._

_It was the fifteenth of December when she departed with our father in the early afternoon. Evie and I distracted ourselves with our chores and our studies, martial and theoretical. We cooked supper together, and waited. We played some card games, and waited. We found topics of discussion to pass the time, and waited. Finally, at half eleven, Evie decided she no longer wanted to wait._

_“Father and Ellie can tell us of her success in the morning,” she insisted as she stretched and groaned. It wasn’t that I didn’t have faith in Ellie’s abilities, but that I worried. I needed to know she was safe._

_It was nearly two in the morning before my father finally arrived home. He looked exhausted, disheveled, distraught. There were dark stains on his overcoat—was it blood? Something wasn’t right._

_“What’s happened?” I tried not to sound too demanding, but my worry rose up in my throat like bile. “Where’s Ellie?”_

_“What are you still doing up, Jacob? You’ve drills to run at dawn.”_

_“Answer my question,” I demanded. He shrugged off his overcoat and rolled his eyes._

_“Go to bed,” he growled back. His expression brooked no argument as he stalked away from me, but I chased after him._

_“Where is Ellie?” I demanded again. He ignored me once more, stomping up the stairs. Ideas began milling through my head about what could have happened, harkening back to those dark stains on his overcoat._

_In my mind, she was infallible. What could have happened? The shilling around my neck suddenly felt cold, and I felt sick. Some loud, ugly, sinister voice inside of me began taunting me._

_She’s gone._

_I couldn’t bear that thought. I still can’t._

_I followed after my father as he stalked his way further into the house._

_“Please, just tell me what happened. Where is she?” I needed to know. More than needing to know where she was, I needed to know that she was safe. That she was alive. He still ignored me, and even bristled a little._

_“Shut up,” he snapped. “You’ll wake your sister. Now, do as I say and go to bed.”_

_What could I do?_

_Fighting with my father seems almost as commonplace as breathing, now. If we’re speaking with each other, it’s likely that we’re disagreeing about something._

_It’s come to the point where he almost never takes me seriously. This time was no different._

_He slammed the door to his room, and left me alone in the dark._

_I wondered then, as I wonder now, whether I could have done anything to save her? If I had been better prepared, if I had been there with her, would she still be here with me now?_

_I went to bed as my father insisted, but I didn’t sleep. I lay in bed, angry tears stinging my eyes as I clutched at my pillow. I stayed awake into the grey light of early morning._

_Evie entered my room as the sky lightened, looking unsettled._

_“Did father say anything to you about Ellie?” She asked. At the sound of Ellie’s name, some dam within me cracked._

_“No.”_

_I was angry, and embarrassed, and I tried to stop myself from sobbing. I failed._

_“Is she… is she gone?” Evie whispered. I didn’t want to believe she was. I still don’t._

_“No. I don’t know.”_

_Evie put her arms around me, and I clung to her._

_Where are you, Ellie? What happened? I’ve no answers._

_My father carried on, ignoring any requests for information from either of us, and handily changing the subject whenever Ellie was brought up. I resented him for it. I resented him for not giving me the answers I so desperately needed._

_Evie and I quietly hoped Ellie’s parents would send an invitation to our family for Christmas. Christmas came and went, with no word._

_Perhaps for the new year, we posited. Again, the new year came and went, and there was no word. I thought to take matters into my own hands._

_It was the afternoon of the fourth of January when I arrived at the door of her parents’ estate, ringing the doorbell and waiting. Barty answered, a little bewildered._

_“Mister Frye. We weren’t expecting you,” he said. I doffed my cap as I fidgeted. I was nervous. What was I doing there?_

_“I’m sorry to intrude, Mister Pereira. Is Ellie at home?” I just needed to hear that she was alive. I heard the chiming of a service bell—someone in the house was calling for him._

_“Is there something I can do for you, Mister Frye?” He asked. I couldn’t tell if he was ignoring my question, or if he was distracted by the chiming of the service bell._

_“What about Mister or Mrs. Blair? May I speak with one of them?” I asked. I thought perhaps if I could at least speak to her parents, I could glean something of what had happened. The sinister voice came back, as it often did, and still does—she’s gone._

_“The Blairs are indisposed at the moment,” he replied._

_“May I leave a message? I’d like to speak with them about Ellie, if I may.”_

_Barty’s brow furrowed in sympathy, but he nodded. I felt my chest fluttering with anxiety. It was the first time anyone but Evie had bothered to acknowledge Ellie’s existence to me in weeks. Still, I felt angry._

_Why wouldn’t anyone tell me what happened?_

_I never received word back from her parents._

_I’m still angry. I’m so, so angry. About a great many things, yes, but most of all, I’m angry at my father. I’m angry at him for not telling me the truth of what happened to Ellie. For not telling me anything at all. He would have been the last person to see her alive. What happened?_

_I don’t want to believe that she’s really gone, but what alternative is there?_

_No. I can’t. And I won’t._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, please leave me a comment to let me know! It makes my day every time, and helps motivate me to continue writing! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡


	2. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins receive a surprise visitor.

The sound of the doorbell startled Evie out of her careful focus on the pages of theory before her. Brow furrowing as she stood, she let out a grumble and marked her page before closing the book. As she left her room, Jacob emerged from his, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I’m not expecting anyone. Are you?” She asked him. Jacob shook his head.

“It’s half two in the afternoon. Who would come to call at such an hour?” She wondered aloud, moving down the hallway towards the stairs.

“Perhaps it’s the post,” Jacob mumbled through a yawn. Evie made a face.

“The post already came this morning, and they never ring for it.”

Jacob shrugged. The doorbell rang again as the two of them headed down the stairs, towards the front entrance.

“I suppose it might be one of the neighbours, ringing for sugar or flour again,” Jacob mumbled absently, running his fingers through his hair to tidy it. Evie peeked through the gossamer curtain on the door, and let out a loud gasp.

“What?” Jacob asked, but Evie was already yanking the door wide.

“ _Ellie!_ ” She shouted. The dark-skinned girl on the stoop looked startled, then laughed.

“Good afternoon,” she said, clasping her hands together in front of her.

Jacob rushed to stand next to his sister, heart in his throat. A thick silence hung between the three of them as the twins stared her down. Ellie’s smile became a little strained.

“Is something the matter? You both look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Where have you been?” Jacob’s voice was soft but demanding.

Ellie’s brow furrowed. “I’ve been resting. Did your father not pass on my letters?”

The twins glanced between each other with questioning looks, then back to her as they shook their heads. Ellie’s brows rose in surprise.

“Oh. Well, I suppose that would explain why I never received a response.” Another silence settled in, and Ellie looked between them expectantly.

“Oh!” Evie stammered, moving back to make room for Ellie to step inside. “Please, come in.”

Ellie nodded. “You said you didn’t receive my letters—did your father at least tell you what happened?”

Evie and Jacob both shook their heads. Ellie looked annoyed as she rolled her eyes and sighed.

“That should come as no surprise, and yet, here we are,” she muttered. “This wasn’t at all the situation I expected when I came to see you this afternoon. It seems I’ve more to tell you than I thought.”

Evie’s brow furrowed. “What’s happened?”

Ellie motioned down the hallway. “If you don’t mind, let’s sit down in the parlour to talk,” she said. The twins nodded, and Jacob stepped behind her to take her overcoat as she shrugged it off.

“Thank you, darling,” she said, smiling over her shoulder at him. He nodded, his face a mask of neutrality as he hung her coat before following after them towards the parlour.

Evie found a seat in an overstuffed armchair, while Ellie sat on the settee across from her. Jacob joined Ellie, and she reached for him. Quick to respond, he wound their fingers up tightly, trembling at the warmth of her hand tucked into his.

_Am I dreaming?_ He wondered, chest aching as he stared at her in fixated awe. Ellie seemed to sense his melancholy, squeezing at his fingers in a gesture of comfort.

“Now, then—tell me what you _do_ know,” she said, looking between them.

“The last thing we had heard of you was on the afternoon you left with Father to complete your task. He returned alone, _much_ later than we expected. Jacob asked after you, as did I, but he never gave us any answers,” Evie replied, leaning forward in her chair.

Jacob nodded. “We’ve had no idea where you were these last weeks. I’ve been worried sick.”

“We both have,” Evie added.

Ellie nodded. “I see. Well, in my letters to you, I explained that I’d succeeded, and was resting to recover from my ordeal. Your father came to see after my progress in late December, just after Christmas—I gave the letters to him then. He promised to deliver them to you.”

There was a pause as the three of them exchanged perplexed glances. Jacob looked at Ellie for a little longer, rubbing his thumb along the side of her palm where he held her. She didn’t look at him directly, but gave his hand another soft squeeze.

“There’s much to tell you, then. I hadn’t expected you to be so completely in the dark about what happened…”

She paused, and the twins leaned in. “I was able to complete my task, and kill my target. I was injured, though—”

“Injured? How? What happened?” Jacob’s grip on her hand tightened as he bristled. Ellie closed her other hand around his as she turned towards him.

“Peace, darling. I’m fine.”

Turning back to address them both again, she went on. “I made a minor misstep in executing the plan I had formulated with your father’s help, and I was injured by one of my target’s guards. Your father aided my escape, but I lost consciousness at one point while fleeing. I’m not certain how much I remember, and how much is perceived by what I was told. The physician confined me to bed rest for three weeks.”

“Three weeks of bed rest?” Evie looked concerned, and her brother mirrored her expression. “What on earth happened?”

Ellie hummed. “The physician’s report reads a ‘serious laceration’—here,” she said, drawing a line on the right side of her torso beneath her ribs with two fingers. Evie narrowed her eyes, and Ellie sighed.

“Please don’t think to lecture me, Evie. Everyone else has already done it enough—your father, my parents, the _Council_. I made a misstep, and I cannot change what the outcome _was_ —I can only do better next time.”

“You can’t just laugh this off, Ellie,” Evie insisted, visibly upset. “If your wound was serious enough to warrant _three weeks_ of bed rest?”

Ellie smiled, though it was strained. “Perhaps this is why your father kept the details from you.”

“Never mind the details; he never breathed a word about what happened to you, at all,” Jacob snapped. “He came back in the middle of the night, no sign nor word of you, and dark stains on his overcoat. I thought…” He paused, casting his gaze downward as his lips pressed together in a thin line. Ellie’s expression softened, and her thumb stroked along the side of Jacob’s hand.

“I’m terribly sorry to you both. I can only imagine how worried you must have been. I would have been beside myself were the situation reversed,” she said, her voice soft. A tense silence settled over the room, and Ellie glanced between them. She watched as Evie’s face twisted, and felt Jacob tremble as she looked towards him. His cheeks grew a little ruddy, but it was Evie who broke the silence.

“Oh, Ellie,” she sobbed, standing and reaching for the other girl. Ellie hurried to meet her friend, wrapping her up in a snug embrace.

“It’s alright, Evie,” she murmured.

“Oh, I can’t believe you’re still alive,” Evie sobbed. “We thought you were gone, and father wouldn’t say a word about you. I was so—”

“Shh,” Ellie hushed her gently, giving her a squeeze before she stood back, dabbing at her friend’s face with her kerchief.

“Come, now, Evie, there’s no need to be upset,” she insisted, though her own eyes were suddenly damp. “I’m perfectly alright, you see?”

Evie nodded as she took the kerchief from Ellie to wipe at her eyes. “Yes, of course, I know,” she mumbled, looking embarrassed.

Ellie smiled apologetically as she rubbed at Evie’s arm. “I’m sorry to have worried you—the both of you. If I’d known you were so unaware, I would have come sooner. I just thought you must both have been awfully busy.”

“I’m just so glad you’re alright,” Evie said, wrapping Ellie up in another tight embrace. Ellie gladly returned the gesture, and stayed silent for a moment to let her friend weep. Evie buried her face into Ellie’s shoulder, trembling as she let her tears fall freely.

“Damn you. I really believed you were gone,” she muttered, and Ellie laughed a little, patting her back.

Jacob sat watching their exchange, trying to swallow the hard lump that had formed in his throat. There was a sense of relief at seeing Ellie just as alive and apparently no worse for the wear than the last time he’d seen her, but he also felt a rising sense of resentment.

_Why was father so secretive about you? All he had to do was tell us you were at home, recovering. What was so difficult about that?_

“Now that you know about my mark, there are a few other gaps to fill in,” Ellie said, breaking his reverie as she sat alongside him. She took up Jacob’s hand, twining up their fingers again.

“I’ve been treating with the Council these last few days. I just returned from the Estate about an hour ago, and decided to come see you both to tell you the news.”

“Has something _else_ happened?” Jacob asked, looking bewildered. Evie had retaken her seat in the armchair, still wiping away the last vestiges of her tears with her own kerchief. Ellie nodded with excitement, a broad smile spreading across her face.

“Yes! The Council has given their approval of my request to go to London to join Mister Green.”

A bittersweet warmth bloomed out in his chest, and he clasped her hand in both of his.

“I knew you’d do it,” he said. Ellie’s expression softened as she looked at him again, brushing her thumb over his cheek.

“Thank you, darling.”

Jacob nodded, his cheeks flushing under her touch. “When will you leave?” _Perhaps we can glean when Evie and I will receive our targets. Father was training the three of us for this. We should all leave together—_

“Tomorrow.”

“What?” Jacob and Evie chimed at once.

“Yes, I know, it’s rather sudden,” Ellie admitted with a small frown. “I was surprised as well, but as I understand it, they had already intended to approve of my going, so long as I could execute my task. They had already been making preparations during my recovery, so all that’s left for me to do is prepare my things.”

“I thought… weren’t we supposed to be going with you?” Jacob mumbled. He didn’t bother trying to hide his crestfallen expression. Ellie pressed her lips together in a thin line.

“I thought the same. I brought the subject up to your father twice last month,” she answered. Glancing between them, she hesitated. “He said that he doesn’t believe you’re ready.”

Jacob’s expression soured, but he remained silent. _Of course he doesn’t believe we’re ready. It would be far too convenient if we were._

A beat passed, and Evie sighed.

“I suppose Father would know better than either of us whether we’re ready or not,” she said, twisting her kerchief in her hands. Jacob scoffed, and Evie glanced towards Ellie. Her smile was both fond and a little envious as she stood.

“I wish I could say I’m surprised at your tenacity, Ellie, but I’d be lying, wouldn’t I?” She reached for the shorter girl, who stood to meet her again with a bright smile.

“Thank you, darling,” she said, giving her fingers a squeeze. “I hope you know I’m very proud of you both. I know you’re ready to join me, even if your father doesn’t want to believe it.”

Evie nodded sagely, and Ellie went on. “I’m to return to Crawley with a report of my observations, in six months’ time. I’ve faith that your father and the Council will see reason by then, and you’ll both be ready to return to London with me.”

“We’ll certainly do our best,” Evie said with a wry smile. “Won’t we, Jacob?”

The melancholy of Jacob’s expression wasn’t lost on either of them. Evie glanced at her brother, then pursed her lips.

“Will you tell us of your exploits? You’re terribly good at spinning a yarn, and I’d love to know the details of how you pulled it all off,” she put in.

Ellie smiled as she nodded. “Yes. But not now. I’ve much to do yet before I leave tomorrow morning. That was actually part of why I came to call—my parents have extended an invitation to you all for supper this evening. You’re to stay the night in the guest rooms, as usual,” she said. After a moment, she looked a little sheepish as she added: “I’d like for you both to see me off tomorrow morning, if you’ve no other engagements.”

Evie nodded, giving Ellie’s hand a squeeze. “That sounds like an excellent idea, darling,” she said. She glanced at Jacob, then to Ellie with a knowing look.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your preparations, so I should return to my studies,” she said, straightening her waistcoat. “Don’t dally too long, brother dear,” she said, squeezing Jacob’s shoulder before departing the room. The door clicked shut behind her, and Ellie was left stood in the centre.

Jacob looked up at her, his gaze wet and raw as the dam within him finally broke. Ellie opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Jacob leapt at her. He wrapped her up in a tight embrace, crushing her against him as he buried his face into her shoulder.

“I can’t believe you’re here—you’re _alive_. I thought you were gone.” Jacob was breathless, sobbing out his words. Ellie hushed him, stroking at his hair as she rubbed his back.

“I’m here, darling,” she said softly. “It’s alright, I promise.”

He held her for some long minutes, breathing in the faint smell of her jasmine oil and letting himself weep. When the rush of emotion had passed through him, he slowly drew back to look at her. He was ruddy-cheeked and his eyes were still wet, but his expression was one of aching relief. He moved to cradle her face in his hands, drawing his thumbs over the soft curve of her cheekbones. Looking at her as if it were the first time he’d seen her, he let out a trembling sigh.

“It’s you,” he breathed, and leaned forward to kiss her. She let out a murmur of surprise, but didn’t protest. Another wave of emotion came over him, and he nearly wept again. He forced himself to pause, breathless and shaking as he looked at her again, thumbing along her jaw.

“Oh, I missed you,” he whispered. He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against hers. “I’m so glad you’re still here with us…” _With me._

Ellie wrapped her arms around his shoulders, sliding her fingers up into his hair. “I missed you, too, darling.”

A comfortable silence hung between them for some long minutes, Jacob focusing intently on the warmth of her small frame in his arms. The feeling of her fingers brushing through his hair and caressing his cheeks felt almost foreign, but ineffably welcome. As he slowly began to calm down, his thoughts were pervaded by his father’s duplicity. His brow furrowed, and his rage boiled up suddenly from within his gut.

“Damn him!” Jacob shouted.

Ellie flinched in shock. Her fingers squeezed at his shoulder, and Jacob looked at her in anguish.

“Why couldn’t he just tell us what had happened to you? I—”

“Shh,” Ellie hushed him, touching her fingers to his lips. “I’m sure he had his reasons. I don’t _like_ that he kept you in the dark about everything, but perhaps it was for the best? Perhaps he worried that if he told you, it would have created a melancholy for you both, and distracted you from your training and studies,” she suggested.

Jacob took a step back from her, scowling. “Even if that’s true, in withholding it from us, he created the exact melancholy he was trying to prevent. We didn’t know whether you were alive or dead, never mind what had happened. He could have said _something._ He _should_ have. It would have been easier. I spent so much time these last weeks, wondering what could have happened to you. I didn’t want to believe you were gone, but what other alternative was there? Father behaved as if you didn’t exist,” Jacob snarled. His voice grew soft as he went on. “What was I meant to think? I would have spent the rest of my life wondering…”

Ellie took his face in her hands. “I’m here now, love. It’s alright,” she said softly. He sighed as he closed his eyes and turned his face into her hand, pressing soft kisses against her palm. Several minutes passed as he basked in the soft warmth of her touch, then he turned his gaze on her.

“Please don’t tell me this is goodbye,” he whispered. Her expression twisted as her heart skipped unpleasantly in her chest, and she shook her head.

“No, darling, not at all. This isn’t goodbye, I promise you, but...” she paused, and Jacob’s brow furrowed deeply.

“I only don’t want to ask you to wait for me, Jacob.”

“Don’t sell me a dog,” Jacob snapped, his expression souring.

Ellie flinched. “Would it be fair if I did?”

He made a face at her. “Fairness has nothing to do with it, Ellie, and you damn well know it,” he snapped. She looked embarrassed, and his scowl deepened.

“Well?”

She let out a soft laugh as she leaned up to kiss the crease in his brow. “Will you wait for me, darling?” She leaned back to look at him, taking a breath. “Please?”

“Of course I’ll wait for you,” he muttered, leaning his forehead against hers. A moment passed, and she felt the tension in him subside. He smiled as he closed his eyes, leaning forward to kiss her once.

“I’ve missed you these last weeks, love,” she murmured. Jacob nuzzled her cheek.

“I’ve missed you, too, sweetheart,” he whispered. After a pause, he sighed. “And now, it seems I’ll have to miss you again.”

Ellie winced, but didn’t speak as he leaned into her again.

“Will you return to Crawley?”

She sighed, then shook her head. “In six months, as I said. I’ve been directed to remain in London unless I feel it’s too dangerous.”

Silence hung between them as Jacob leaned back to watch her fondly, drawing his thumb along her jaw. Ellie leaned into him, pressing a soft kiss against his mouth and drawing her arms around his shoulders. He kissed back, wrapping his arms around her waist again and tugging her flush against him. As they paused, Jacob sighed, pressing soft kisses against her cheek and the bridge of her nose.

“When can I see you again?”

The softness of his voice made Ellie quiver. “You’ll see me tonight, at supper,” she murmured in response.

Jacob smiled, even as his brow furrowed. “No, I mean… I want to _see you_ again. Please.”

Ellie drew in a breath and nodded, drawing her thumb over his lips. “Tonight, love. I’ll tell you later.”

Jacob smiled as he nudged her chin with his fingers, kissing the pad of her thumb. She smiled in kind, and he leaned in to kiss her again. The distant sound of the front door opening interrupted them, and the sound of muffled grumbling forced them to untangle themselves. Ellie straightened her waistcoat before crossing the room, and Jacob hurried to follow her.

“Ellie! What are you doing here? I thought you had some personal matters to take care of,” Ethan remarked as she approached the foyer with Jacob close on her heels. Ethan narrowed his eyes a bit at them both. Jacob ignored his father, helping Ellie to shrug on her overcoat before she curtsied to the older man in greeting.

“Hello again, Master Frye. Yes, I thought it best to speak with Jacob and Evie in person about the events that have transpired,” she remarked. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and then he looked annoyed. Ellie smiled at him, though it was strained.

“I also came to extend an invitation to your household for supper at the Blair estate this evening. You are expected at half six, as usual.”

Ethan glanced at Jacob, whose attention was still very much focused on Ellie. He narrowed his eyes briefly, then nodded once.

“Very well. As you say, Ellie.”

Ellie nodded in kind, giving Jacob’s hand a covert squeeze before she turned to him with a small smile. “I shall see you at supper, darling,” she said, then curtsied politely to Ethan once more before departing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, please leave me a comment to let me know! It makes my day every time, and helps motivate me to continue writing! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡ Stay tuned for the next chapter. Things should get... Good™ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	3. First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. Jacob and Ellie take their last night together and make love for the first time.

Ellie glanced at the wall clock as she watched Evie cover her third yawn in as many minutes. _Nearly a quarter to midnight._ She stood from the settee where the three of them were sat.

“I think it’s best if we all turn in for the night,” she said, taking Evie’s hand. “Come, I’ll show you to the guest room Connie prepared for you.”

The taller girl rubbed at her eyes with her free hand, giving Ellie’s a squeeze. “Yes, I think that’s best. Tomorrow is going to be quite the day, for all of us,” Evie mumbled through a yawn.

Ellie laughed. “I’m sure it will be,” she replied. Turning to Jacob, who had risen with his sister, she smiled sweetly. His expression remained neutral, though she could see the slight tremble of his lips. She embraced him briefly, leaning close to his ear. “Half twelve. Don’t be late.”

Jacob squeezed her arm to let her know he’d heard, and she saw the slight flush that crept onto his cheeks as she stood back. He looked at her with sudden longing, and she smiled as she patted his arm, then turned towards Evie. Linking arms with her, the two of them began chatting about the details of her mark again as they made their way out of the parlour.

* * *

Ellie lay awake, the light from her oil lamp illuminating the face of her pocket watch as she lifted it from her nightstand. Each time she checked the spacing of the hands, it felt as if hours had passed, but it had hardly been minutes. Her stomach was a bundle of nerves, fluttering at the slightest noise. As the hands on her pocket watch drew closer to the agreed time, she began to fret.

_Did he fall asleep? He did look quite tired when we parted. Perhaps something else is keeping him? Or maybe he’s changed his mind._ She began to pace fitfully, minding her footfalls as she did, wringing her hands in nervous anticipation.

_Tap-tap-tap._ With only minutes to spare before half twelve, finally she heard the soft, barely-there tapping that she had been waiting for.

She hurried to the door, gently pulling it open. The dim light of her lamp spilled out, seeming incomparably bright against the darkness in the hallway. Jacob crossed the threshold, and waited as she closed the door behind him. She held the latch for a long moment, the finality of their meeting suddenly rushing over her.

_Six months. It’s only six months._

She turned towards him, and held her breath. He looked at her with such fierce, hungry longing that she felt as if she were wilting. He beckoned her towards him and she obliged, crossing the space between them. He caught her hand as she reached for him, his other hand cupping her cheek as his thumb drew over the shape of her cheekbone.

“My girl…” he murmured, fond and aching as he pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m so proud of you. You really are the best of us…”

Ellie put her free arm around his shoulder, drawing herself closer. “You’ll join me in London soon. I know you will.”

Jacob chuckled as he nuzzled her cheek. “I hope so.”

“You will,” she repeated, giving his hand a squeeze.

_You sound so certain…_ His smile was fond as he kissed her cheek. “I believe you,” he mumbled, closing his eyes.

The kiss he left against her mouth was soft, and he felt heat prickle across his skin at the soft sound of delight she made. She returned his kisses eagerly, her free hand carding through his hair, as his hand still twined up with hers squeezed restlessly at her fingers.

When they paused, both flushed and breathless, Jacob slowly released his hold on her to take a step back. He licked his lips as he met her gaze.

“Can I take this off you? Please?” He mumbled, plucking at the fabric of her chemise. Ellie let out a breathy laugh as she nodded, reaching for the buttons at her collar.

He caught her arm. “Let me.”

Ellie’s breath hitched as she bit her lip, and her hands dropped back to her sides. Jacob cradled her face in his hands and leaned in to kiss her again. Ellie giggled as he gripped at the ample curve of her ass, her arms wrapping around his neck.

His hands shifted up along her sides and belly to fondle the plush mounds of her breasts, thumbs teasing over her nipples through the fabric. She trembled, her shoulders drooping as her head tipped back with a low moan. Jacob leaned in, biting kisses into the soft curve of her throat as his fingers found the buttons at the front of her chemise.

When she felt the brush of his fingers against her bare belly, she let out a soft gasp of surprise. Jacob hummed as he gave her another nip along the curve of her jaw before he stood back. His hand loosely wrapped around the column of her throat, then trailed down over the centre of her chest, parting the fabric a little further before reaching back up. Fingers brushing along her collarbones, he caught the fabric of her nightshirt and drew across her skin, down the slope of her shoulders. The garment slipped down her arms and fell into a pool at her feet. Meeting his eyes for a brief moment, the intensity of his gaze made her feel weak, heat pooling low in her belly before spreading out across her skin.

He shifted his focus to the dark scar on her right side, still ugly and raw. His hand slid down her torso, and he brushed his thumb over it gently. Catching her slight wince as he did, he frowned a little as he looked at her.

“Does it hurt?”

She shook her head. “It’s just a little tender, still,” she mumbled. Jacob hummed, then drew his fingers down further to tease through the coarse hair of her mound. She shivered as her breath hitched, and she pressed closer to him, her hand drifting between them to palm over his cock through his drawers. He let out a low groan, his hips moving into the pressure of her touch. He gripped her wrist, and she paused, leaning back to look at him. The coy expression on her face made him laugh, even as he flustered. Pressing her hand against him again, he leaned in to nip and kiss at her jaw.

“Go on, then,” he purred. Ellie hummed, taking her hand away.

She made quick work of his nightshirt, tugging it off and quickly discarding it. Her fingers teased back up his stomach, drawing over his chest before she beckoned him into a kiss. He sighed against her mouth, tongue sliding over hers as he grabbed at her hips. Her fingers slid back through his hair, then down his jaw and throat, and over the plane of his chest to pluck at his nipples. He trembled under her touch, his cock rubbing against her hip through the fabric of his drawers.

Ellie shifted her kisses along his cheek and over his jaw, then down his throat and over the shape of his collarbones. As she slowly began to sink to her knees, her wet, open-mouthed kisses dragged down the planes of his torso, stopping to briefly tease at his nipples with her lips and tongue. He let out a low moan of delight at that, gliding his fingers through her hair, one hand resting on the nape of her neck as she continued on.

On her knees, she nuzzled the skin of his belly below his navel, listening to his low whines of frustration. She watched his cock twitch beneath the fabric of his drawers, then drew her hand up, covering the shape of him with a slow stroke. His head tipped back and he let out a loud groan, grabbing at her shoulder, the hand on the nape of her neck squeezing restlessly.

He looked down at her, his cheeks ruddy and his expression impatient, but he didn’t speak. She smiled wickedly as she leaned in, nuzzling the length of his shaft through the fabric, leaving a line of kisses up from the base to his head, all without freeing him. He let out a low whine.

“Ellie, please,” he begged, his hips thrusting shallowly against her movements. With agonizing slowness, she worked at the knots and buttons of his drawers as she turned her gaze up to him through her lashes.

“Please?” She purred. “Please, what, Jacob? What is it you want?”

The sultry sound of her voice made him tremble as he bit at his lip. “Put my cock in your mouth, love. I want to watch you,” he whispered heatedly.

“ _Oh…_ ” Ellie breathed out a sound of surprise, then giggled as she leaned in again, kissing and nibbling at the skin of his belly. She pushed his drawers down his legs, letting him step out of them to toss them aside.

He shuddered and let out a luxuriant sigh as she wrapped her fingers around him, drawing a slow stroke from head to base and back. Pausing near the tip, she brushed her thumb along his frenulum, and he let out a whimper. She dragged her tongue over his slit, licking off the fat bead of precome that had gathered there, and he let out an undignified moan, fingers squeezing at her neck.

“Oh, God, _please_ ,” he whispered out in a rush, his chest heaving as his thighs twitched. She giggled as she turned her face up to him, opening her mouth and letting her tongue tease around his head. He whispered her name absently as his hips moved into her touch, his cock bumping against her lips.

She drew his head into her mouth, and Jacob let out a guttural moan. He gripped at her hair, holding her in place for a moment to revel in the soft, wet heat of her mouth. His legs shook as he looked down at her again, nodding for her to go on. Her head bobbed slowly at first, hand stroking along his base as her tongue rolled along the underside, sending ripples of pleasure spreading out from his core.

As she moved faster and the suction of her mouth increased, he began babbling incoherent praises and softly pleading for her not to stop. His words were rewarded with gentle moans of encouragement from her as she looked up at him through her lashes. After a time, her fingers slid down the groove in his hip, nudging his thighs a little further apart before she drew one hand up between his legs to cup his sac. His thighs trembled and he drew in a tremulous breath, grabbing at her head and twining his fingers into her hair. She slid back off of him, her free hand guiding him along with slow but firm strokes.

“Would you like to take the reins?” She asked softly. He cupped her cheek, drawing his thumb along her lips, and she turned her face into his hand to kiss his palm as she glanced up at him from her place on the floor. He smiled a little and let out a shaky laugh.

“Not just yet, love. You know how to treat me,” he teased her. She laughed as she turned her mouth back towards him, teasing her lips and tongue at the very tip of his shaft as she turned her eyes up to him again.

“Then don’t look away,” she whispered. She slid back down, pushing him into the back of her throat. He watched her, mesmerized as she pressed on, until her nose touched the coarse hair of his belly. He let out an undignified noise as he tugged at her hair.

“Christ, Ellie!” He choked out, his knees nearly buckling beneath him. Reveling in the tight, rippling clutch of her throat as she swallowed him, he watched her with delirious fervour, the intense grey-green of her eyes turned up on him. As he reached to cradle her jaw, he heard the soft sound of her choking as she slowly pushed herself back. She let out a quiet gag, and then replaced her mouth with her hands, circling and stroking him. He winced, his hips shallowly moving into her grip.

“Trying to kill me, love?” He uttered out with a shaky laugh. She smirked a little as she teased his head with her tongue and lips.

“Would it be such a terrible way to die?”

He laughed again, but the sound devolved into a huffing groan. “I can think of much less pleasant ways to go,” he muttered, drawing his thumb along the spit-slick corner of her lips. She smiled, drawing the digit into her mouth to suck on it as she drew her gaze back up to find his again. Her expression softened, and the way it filled with longing made heat flush onto his cheeks.

“I don’t want you to hold back, Jacob. Not tonight,” she murmured, her strokes slowly ceasing. He wanted to tease her that he never held back, but her expression made him bite his tongue. Instead, he only swallowed as he nodded. She drew in a breath and slid him back into her mouth, straight to the back of her throat.

Jacob snarled out a curse as he grabbed at her hair, his hips moving slowly, pushing his cock down her throat again. Her eyes rolled back a little as she choked on him, and he moved to slide back, but she resisted, pressing towards him. Gripping at his thighs, she pushed herself further with a low groan, until her nose was pressed against his belly once more. He swore under his breath, cradling her head in his hands for a moment before he began to move. She followed along with his strokes, humming low in her throat, sending shockwaves of pleasure skittering over his nerves, and his tempo increased rapidly.

He muttered off a string of curses and praise, thumbs tracing the full shape of her cheekbones as he gripped her, pushing her down against his belly again. Tears streamed down her cheeks from choking and gagging on him, but she persisted.

“You are a wicked thing,” he whispered, not bothering to try and hide the tremble in his voice. When he felt her throat squeezing angrily around him in protest, he pushed her back and she let out a sound of relief. She leaned down as her strokes continued pulling at his cock, her lips and tongue working over his sac. Sucking on the soft skin, she drew one of his balls into her mouth, and he let out a stuttering gasp as she felt another thick spittle of precome cover her fingers.

“You’re holding back,” she whispered, already a little hoarse as she turned her gaze up on him. Her tongue teased at the base of his cock where it met his balls, and he whimpered as he teetered on the edge.

“I don’t mean to—your mouth is too good, and I want this to last,” he mumbled. She hummed as her lips curled into a smile.

“I asked you not to hold back, love, and we’ve time, yet—so don’t hold back,” she purred. He held his breath for a moment as he swallowed, stroking his thumb along the shape of her lips. She nipped his thumb, then turned her mouth back on him, resting her lips against the tip of his cock.

“Go on,” she whispered, her tongue darting out to taste him again.

“Dirty puzzle,” he muttered fondly, taking her face in his hands again. “Open up,” he commanded, and she did as he said.

He pushed himself into the back of her throat, and felt her relax, letting him slide easily down her throat. Her eyes brimmed with tears again as his pace resumed with swift, sharp thrusts into her mouth. Even as she choked on him, she let out soft moans and sounds of encouragement around him. Her sounds, the heat and frenetic squeezing of her throat around him, and the eager way in which she followed his thrusts finally drove him over the edge. He let out a loud, shaking moan as he gripped her hair, holding himself deep in her clutch. Her eyes rolled back in their sockets, feeling the forceful pressure of him emptying himself into her throat. Her tongue slipped out and teased at his sac, even as she trembled from the lack of air.

“Jesus, love,” his hissed, his voice shaky as he finally slid out of her mouth. She drew back with a final gag, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. He reached down to wipe away the last few tears that fell down her cheeks, and she kissed at his palm as she sat back on her heels.

Drawing the back of her hand across her mouth, she wiped away the spittle that had slid down her chin and jaw. He smiled fondly as he watched her, drawing his thumb along the shape of her cheekbone.

“It’s quite a sight, that,” he said with a devilish smirk, despite the tremble left in his body. She looked up at him with a wicked smile.

“Yes, I gather you’re rather fond of me on my knees before you,” she teased, voice still a little rough. Her fingers drew along the groove of his hip, and he shuddered, catching her under the chin.

“Come up here, sweetheart,” he whispered. Ellie felt her cheeks flush with heat at the heartsick longing in his voice. She did as he asked, pushing herself up off the floor.

Jacob’s hands slid over the sharp curve of her waist, drawing his fingertips up along her ribs. She wrapped her arms around his torso, fingers drawing delicate patterns across his lower back. He smiled fondly as he leaned forward, leaving a flurry of feather-soft kisses along her nose, forehead, and cheeks. Ellie kissed him once, then leaned into his shoulder, and Jacob took the opportunity to pepper kisses along the side of her throat, nibbling at her earlobe. She giggled, giving his arse a gentle swat, and Jacob snorted, leaving a playful bite on her shoulder.

“Cheeky little thing,” he chided, giving her a soft kiss against the mark he left on her skin. Drawing his hand up between her legs, his touch was feather-light as his fingers teased along the crease of her folds. Ellie whimpered, her body trembling at his touch.

“You’re all wet,” he purred, nibbling along the curve of her earlobe.

“It’s your fault,” she muttered through a giggle, her thighs twitching around his hand. Jacob chuckled as he leaned into the crook of her neck, pressing nibbling kisses along the the curve of her shoulder.

“Is that a complaint?” He teased her, putting a little more pressure behind his fingers. She moaned, her head tipping back as her hips moved into his hand.

“A compliment,” she replied. Jacob smirked as he leaned down to grab her thighs, lifting her up to straddle his waist. He kissed her again as he crossed the space towards her bed, and she let out a gasp of shock as he tossed her down onto the plush mattress. He quickly climbed atop her, pinning her hands to the bed with a wry smile as he loomed over her.

“I’d hear a few more compliments before our night is ended,” he murmured, sliding his hands down her arms and over her chest. She giggled as her back arched up into his touch. His fingers toyed over her nipples, plucking and pinching at the sensitive nubs, and she whined, but the sound was shaky, and half of it came out as a moan. He leaned in to press warm, open-mouthed kisses along the column of her throat, slowly drawing down over the shape of her collarbones, and the line of her breastbone. He drew his mouth over the plush mounds of her breasts, lips and tongue teasing at one side as his fingers plied at the other.

Not wanting to linger, he moved his kisses further down the plane of her belly. She parted her thighs around him as he drifted lower, and she propped herself up on her elbows. Her fingers curled into the sheets beneath her as she held her breath in anticipation of his mouth reaching her core.

His hands stroked along the insides of her thighs, gently massaging at her flesh as he drew his mouth down along to curve of her groin. She let out a whine of frustration as his kisses drifted past her mound, along her thigh and up towards her knee. He paused to look up at her, a devilish smirk on his face as he nipped her skin. He drew his kisses, slow and teasing, up along her inner thigh once more, slowly moving closer to her folds. His fingers caressed along the outer and inner sides of her legs, making her squirm.

“You’re an awful tease, Jacob,” she muttered in a huff. He smirked as he leaned back to kiss the inside of her knee again.

“It’s no fun if I just readily cave in to your demands,” he purred with a wry smile, his fingertips ghosting along her folds. Her thighs quivered at his touch, and she groaned in frustration.

“You _did_ say you didn’t want me to hold back,” he reminded her, giving her a soft bite on the inside of her thigh. That seemed to quiet her, and she huffed out a sigh. He hummed as turned his mouth on her again, quickly sucking a mark into her skin. She let out a shaky laugh, reaching down to stroke her fingers along his jaw. He glanced up at her as he kissed at her palm and fingertips, overwhelmed at the longing in her gaze.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. It was earnest, but he flustered at the admission. Ellie held her breath for a moment, and then laughed as she drew her fingers over the shape of his lips.

“Flatterer,” she teased him, and he smiled gratefully as he kissed at her fingertips once more. He turned back towards her body, leaving heavy, languid kisses up the length of her inner thigh, finally reaching the apex. The feeling of his tongue sliding between her folds was almost unexpected, and so her first response was a surprised gasp. Her palms slapped into the mattress beneath them as she bit her lip, trying to stifle a loud, shaking moan as her fingers quickly curled into the sheets.

He let out a low chuckle as he pressed in closer, spreading her open a little further with one hand. His tongue drew up the length of her folds in broad, flat strokes. He left a trail of slow, suckling kisses along her labia, humming in delight as she gripped at his hair. Half-formed words poured out of her, begging him not to stop, and how good his mouth felt. He stroked his tongue slowly over the swollen nub of her clit, then closed his lips around her, suckling gently.

“Oh, yes, Jacob, please don’t stop. Just like that, love, that’s the way,” she hissed, her chest already heaving and her eyes closed as her fingers curled into his scalp.

“Oh, is that all?” He purred. She turned her gaze down on him, her eyes wet and hazy. He teased a finger against her entrance, watching as her lips parted and she let out a whining moan. She nodded eagerly, body going rigid as he slowly slid a finger in. The sound of her cursing made him smile—a rare thing, reserved almost exclusively for the bedchamber, and a sign he was making her fall apart.

He closed his lips around her clit again, alternating between suckling and licking as his finger gently fucked into her. Her thighs shook around him as her body trembled wildly. Near overwhelmed with pleasure, she sobbed out her moans, chest heaving as she grabbed at his hair.

“More,” she whispered. “Please, more, Jacob.” He wriggled a second finger along the length of her folds, coating himself with her arousal before pressing in. She whined at the feeling of him stretching her open, and let out another string of curses as his fingers crooked inside of her, curling forward to stroke over the raised tissue of her sweet spot. She began babbling incoherently, begging him not to stop, urging him on with sweet praise and soft touches that sent heat rushing down his spine, straight to his groin.

“Please,” she begged him over and over, her body shaking wildly as she teetered on the edge of her release. He redoubled his efforts, tongue and lips swirling and suckling along her folds and the swollen nub of her clit. His fingers worked hard and fast, pressing against the tender spot inside of her.

A low, unexpected moan from Jacob drove her down the precipice, and she let out a loud wail. He felt and tasted the hot rush of her release and pressed harder, eager to hear her desperate cries as she came undone for him. Her body shook and quaked wildly as she clutched at his hair, her thighs struggling to close up around him. He buried in closer, pressing up into her sweet spot to draw out as much of her pleasure as he could, lips and tongue working over her aching clit. Her hips moved up against his face, chasing her release even as he drew it out of her.

When she could stand it no longer, she let out a low whine and pushed at his head. He slowed, but didn’t stop entirely, watching as her body twitched and writhed under his touch. He withdrew his fingers from her, and she let out a shaky moan. Smiling, he nuzzled into the crease of her groin, leaving soft, lazy kisses and lapping up the residual fluid that coated her labia and thighs. She shuddered bodily, her fingers flexing against his scalp as she looked down at him.

“Now you’re trying to kill me, I see,” she muttered. Jacob laughed as he nuzzled into her thigh, trailing his kisses back to her knee as he sat up. He sucked his fingers clean as he looked at her with a devilish smirk.

“Would it be such a terrible way to die?” He needled her. She threw her head back with a breathless laugh.

“You’re awful,” she giggled, and Jacob hummed as he watched her fondly. His hand stroked along the outer plane of her leg, and he nuzzled at the fold of her knee, leaving a soft kiss there. She sat up to straddle his lap, putting her arms around his neck as she leaned in to kiss him. He kissed back, eager and hungry as he gripped at her hips, tugging her closer. As she leaned back to look at him, her expression softened, and she cupped his cheek as she smiled, brushing her thumb over his lips.

“I said you’re awful, but it’s really the opposite, isn’t it,” she murmured, her voice a little heartsick.

“Ellie…” Jacob flustered as his cheeks turned ruddy. He turned in to kiss her palm, trying to hide his embarrassment, and she leaned in to kiss his cheek and temple, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

“You are magnificent, Jacob Frye,” she mumbled against his shoulder. Jacob squirmed, his fingers flexing against her hips. Ellie leaned her forehead against his, and they stayed that way for some long minutes, exchanging soft kisses and tender words.

After a time, Ellie leaned back to look at him, and something in her gaze made Jacob feel weak.

“Jacob…” She called for him, but she already had his full attention. He cupped her cheek, nodding for her to go on. She curled her fingers around his forearm, and she let out a soft breath.

“Make love to me.” The low, sultry whisper of her voice made him shudder. His hand slid down to curl around her throat.

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?” He was being cheeky, but she could see the nervous excitement in his expression, even in the dim light.

“After a fashion, but…” She huffed, trembling as her fingers flexed against his forearm. “I want more. I want you to take me, Jacob. Please.”

Jacob’s breath hitched and his fingers flexed around her neck. He leaned in to kiss her, his hand loosening to trail down her breastbone. She sighed at his touch, her body arching towards him as she opened her mouth to his kisses. He growled low in his throat and his fingers twitched against her belly, sliding down to rub over the firm nub of her clit. She whined into his mouth, her hips moving eagerly against his hand. After a moment, he leaned back just far enough to press his forehead against hers.

He didn’t speak, too overwhelmed to find his words as his hand slowly slid from between her legs to slide gingerly along her side. After a moment, he nodded, and she smiled as she slid back towards her headboard, fluffing a few pillows, then leaning back to settle on her elbows. He followed after her, sitting a respectable distance away, but not so far that he was out of reach.

Ellie dragged her fingertips along his chest and belly, then lifted her hand, curling her finger to beckon him towards her. Jacob drew in a deep breath as he shuffled closer, settling between her legs. He leaned down to kiss her, slow and soft but demanding, biting at her lips and tongue. Her hand slid further down his belly to wrap around his cock, already half hard again, and he groaned as his hips moved into her touch.

“Ellie,” his breath hitched on her name as he leaned his forehead against hers. Her strokes were slow and gentle, teasing him back to full attention. She paused to rub her thumb along his frenulum, listening to the desperate, lewd moan that tumbled out of him.

“There we are, love,” she cooed, giving his head a gentle squeeze and spreading the bead of precome around with her thumb. He groaned again, pushing her to lay back. Taking her hand away from him, he pressed it into the mattress by her head. He parted her thighs further, gripping himself and pressing the length of his shaft against her core. She whimpered in delight, her hips rocking against his. The look of consternation on his face didn’t go unnoticed by her, his brow furrowing deeply as he moved against her. His breaths were shallow, but beleaguered, and she reached up to cup his cheek.

“Don’t be nervous, darling. It’s just me,” she teased him.

“Shut up,” he muttered fondly. She giggled, and he silenced her with more kisses. After a moment, he paused, the same apprehension on his features.

“You’ll tell me if I do something wrong, won’t you? If you need me to stop, or—”

“Jacob,” Ellie took his face in her hands to make him look at her. “I don’t want you to worry, darling. I trust you.”

Jacob’s cheeks flushed with heat. “Yes, but… this is different, isn’t it?” He muttered, glancing sidelong. The eager intensity of her gaze made him fluster, so he turned his face into her palm to kiss her. She thumbed over his lips and sat up, pushing a hand against his chest to urge him to sit back a little.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Jacob,” she said, splaying her fingers out across his chest and looking at him earnestly. “It’s enough.”

His brow furrowed again and he shook his head as he covered her hand with his own. “No, I _do_ want this with you, Ellie. I do,” he insisted. “I’ve wanted this for some time, but I don’t…” his voice trailed off as he glanced sidelong. She saw the flush in his cheeks in the lamplight, and kneaded her fingers into his chest.

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he mumbled, finding her gaze again. “I want to make you happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

His expression, raw and vulnerable, made a pleasant warmth bloom in her chest.

“Oh, Jacob. You _do_ make me happy, darling,” she whispered, drawing him down into a kiss.

Jacob sighed, a blissful sound, and she moaned as he pressed closer to her, easing her onto her back once more. She trembled as she felt the thick shaft of his cock pressing against her mound again, rubbing along the length of her folds as he moved his hips in a slow, careful rhythm. Her thighs trembled around him as her arms wrapped around his neck, and she felt his soft breaths against her mouth.

“Don’t close your eyes, love. Let me see you,” he whispered hotly, nudging himself against her entrance. Ellie drew in a breath as she bit her lip, nodding her assent as her hips canted against his. His smile was lazy as he leaned back enough to watch her. She flustered a little beneath his gaze, but didn’t look away. He moved his hips forward, pushing the head of his cock inside.

“Oh, my God, Jacob…” Her breath hitched and though her eyes didn’t close, her head tipped back into the pillows as her eyes rolled upward. Her hands slid along his sides, her nails digging into the small of his back as he slowly spread her open. His body went rigid, quaking and trembling as he finally hilted himself inside of her. He gripped at her hip with one hand, the other pressed into the mattress to steady himself. Sighing deeply, he pressed a slow kiss against the column of her throat before nestling his face into her shoulder. She felt the scratch of his facial hair as he panted lowly against her skin.

“You feel perfect, Ellie,” he mumbled in a low rush, his voice quivering and raw as he bit along her pulse. She whimpered as she shifted her arms around his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his waist.

“So do you, Jacob— _oh!_ ” She couldn’t help the startled gasp of delight that pealed out of her when he moved, sliding his hips back a little to push in again.

Jacob fretted, shifting to pull away from her. “I’m sorry—”

“Shh, hush now, darling,” she whispered, her voice quivering as her thighs tightened around him. “It feels good…”

Jacob trembled, but stayed still, and Ellie tilted her hips against his with a low moan. “Keep going,” she whimpered. “Please…”

Heat rushed up his spine and onto his cheeks, and he nodded. Beginning to move again, he found a steady pace, slow and deliberate as he pressed on.

“God, Ellie… you’re so warm and soft…” He breathed, his voice hitched with awed appreciation. Ellie giggled, and he silenced her with his kisses once more, cradling her face in his hand. Her breaths came in low, shallow pants, her gaze distant as her fingers dug into his sides. He rested his other hand on her thigh, squeezing and massaging her twitching muscles, sliding into her with deep, unhurried thrusts. She let out a shaky moan as she pressed her forehead into his, her eyes glassy and her attention focused on the slow, pleasant feeling of him spreading her open.

“Oh, yes, Jacob. That’s the way,” she mumbled, her voice no more than a breathy whisper.

His hand drifted along her thigh and over the crease of her groin, drawing the pad of his thumb over the swollen nub of her clit. She drew in a sharp gasp and his breath caught in his throat as he felt the tightening of her inner muscles around him. Jacob groaned into her mouth as he nibbled and sucked at her lips and tongue, his thumb continuing to move in a slow, circular rhythm. Her back arched up off the mattress and she ground her hips against him with a deep, shuddering groan.

“Harder, Jacob… harder, please…”

Jacob’s pace stumbled, and he paused to press in deep and lean into her shoulder, giving her a soft bite.

“I won’t last if you say things like that to me, sweetheart,” he muttered. Ellie laughed breathlessly as she put her arms around his shoulders again, nuzzling against the column of his throat.

“Please keep going, love. Please, I want you so badly, Jacob. You feel so good inside of me like this…”

“I’m close, Ellie,” he mumbled, a little embarrassed. It felt as if they had only just begun, but she turned his face towards her, pressing a few gentle kisses to the corner of his mouth.

“It’s alright, love,” she whispered. “Go on.”

“No,” he muttered, grinding their hips together. Ellie moaned loudly as her head tipped back into the pillows.

“I want this to last,” he whispered, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of her throat. Ellie giggled breathlessly and sighed as she dragged her nails down his back. He hissed, biting into the flesh of her shoulder as he slowly withdrew from her. Ellie let out a moan of disappointment, and Jacob huffed out a laugh.

“Greedy thing, you are,” he muttered. She giggled as she bit her finger, watching him. He hooked her knees over his elbows, leaning forward to push her legs towards her shoulders. Leaning into her, he pressed messy kisses against her mouth, sliding the length of his shaft against her again. She whined as her hips canted against his, her fingers gripping at the sheets with white-knuckled intensity.

“Don’t tease me, Jacob. Please…” she whimpered between fevered kisses. “Put your cock inside me.”

“As the lady commands,” he purred, pressing his thumb against the head to guide himself back into her.

“ _Oh!_ ” Her breath hitched with a gasping moan, her head tipping back into the pillows beneath her. Jacob groaned against her throat as he hilted himself, his pace agonizingly slow. The new angle made Ellie’s toes curl, pleasure coiling deep in her belly and rolling out in waves over her skin. Her mouth hung open as she moaned loudly. Jacob grunted as he leaned into the crook of her neck, cursing against her skin as he rolled his hips into hers.

“Ellie…” Her name spilled out of him in a shaky rush. He kissed her, messy and desperate, his thrusts pressing her harder, as she had demanded before.

“Yes, love, like that— _oh!_ Oh, _fuck—_ ” she wailed out, her back arching up off the mattress as she gripped at the sheets above her head. As she cried and moaned, the frenetic twitching of her walls made him falter in his pace, his belly tightening as he edged ever closer to his end. He huffed against her skin as he left a trail of bites along her throat.

“You feel divine,” he uttered, his body quaking with pleasure. She wailed again, her cries softening as her pants grew shallow.

“Harder, Jacob,” she pleaded. “Please, fuck me harder.”

“Christ, Ellie, don’t _say_ that,” he hissed against her skin. Still, he did as she asked, increasing the tempo once more.

His grip on her legs slipped, and she wrapped them around his waist again. It didn’t take long before he began to stutter in his pace, and his breaths came in hitched pants.

“Soon… soon, love,” he huffed out, and she nodded as she clutched at him. He began to slow, and she dug her nails into his sides where she held him.

“Don’t stop,” she whimpered against his skin.

“Ellie…” He slowed further, and Ellie let out a whine as her peak began to slip away from her. He leaned back just enough to catch her gaze, and her body trembled as she drew him in to kiss him again.

“ _Don’t stop_ ,” she begged against his lips, tightening her inner walls around him to keep him inside of her. “I want this, Jacob. I want _you. Please._ ”

The honest, breathy sound of her voice and the sudden clenching of her walls shot a bolt of pleasure up his spine, spreading out from his core and threatening to overwhelm him. He cursed against her mouth as he kissed her, feverish and desperate. His hips resumed their pace, bearing down on her with punishing speed.

The exquisite sounds of her moans and whimpers through their kisses made him tremble. Ellie’s fingers dug into his shoulders where she was wrapped around him. Her body twitched and her head tipped back, her breaths coming in pitched gasps of delight.

“Oh, _Jacob—!_ ” Her wail caught in her throat in a final, frantic rush of pleasure. Her orgasm surged through her in waves, her tremors deepening as her body shook and quaked beneath him. The sudden, tight clutch of her inner walls and rush of wet heat against his lower belly made his breath hitch, and he followed her only a moment later with a low, shuddering groan, and a few final, sharp thrusts.

He kissed her with such desperate, frenzied passion that the both of them could hardly breathe, and they collapsed in a trembling pile, boneless and panting. She tucked into the crook of his neck, relishing the weight of his body on top of her, and Jacob shifted to kiss her again, slow and deep and lazy. Ellie’s fingers slid through his hair, her free hand drawing down his side and back, pressing him against her.

As he leaned back to withdraw from her, he shuddered and let out a low groan. Ellie giggled, her chest still heaving as she looked up at him.

“You are glorious, Jacob Frye,” she purred. Jacob flustered, suddenly unable to find any bravado. Scooping her up, he drew her close as he shifted to lay them down on their sides. She shivered a little as she leaned in for a kiss, her fingers drawing delicate patterns along the shape of his jaw and cheeks.

Murmuring his name between kisses, she let out quiet sounds of delight as his free hand trailed along her ribs, teasing her skin into goosebumps. After some long minutes of warm kisses and soft touches, Jacob felt her slumping into him. Her eyes were nearly closed, and he slid his fingers up into her hair, toying through the dark tresses. She looked at him more directly, but her gaze was hazy and she smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly. He nuzzled her cheek briefly, then glanced sidelong with an expression of displeasure.

“I should probably go back to my room,” he mumbled.

“No,” she whispered, grabbing at his arm as he moved to slide it from beneath her. “No, stay with me. Please, Jacob, don’t go.” Her voice was pleading, and Jacob paused, his chest swelling at the ache in her expression. He thumbed over her lips as he kissed her forehead.

“We’ll both be in the pot tomorrow if I’m discovered in here with you,” he murmured. _But I don’t want to go, either…_

“I don’t care,” she replied without hesitation. “I don’t want either of us to get in trouble, but I don’t…” Her voice trailed off, and she glanced away for a moment. As she turned her gaze back at him, her lips pressed together in a thin line and she held her breath.

“I don’t want you to go, Jacob. Please, stay.” The quiet anguish in her voice made his chest ache, and he made a soothing sound as he wrapped his arms around her once more, drawing her in against his chest.

“My girl…” he sighed, gentle and fond, pressing a flurry of soft kisses against her face. She whimpered, and he leaned his forehead against hers, nuzzling her cheek again.

“Of course I’ll stay, sweetheart,” he cooed, nudging under her chin and tilting her face up to kiss her mouth. Ellie sighed as she put her arms around his neck, tangling their legs up together.

“I want to wake up with you tomorrow, Jacob,” she murmured, letting him kiss her over and over. “I want to wake up in your arms.”

Jacob hummed as he nuzzled her forehead, leaving a tender kiss there. “You will, Ellie. I promise, you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, please leave me a comment to let me know! It makes my day every time, and helps motivate me to continue writing! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡


	4. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goodbyes and confessions.

Ellie woke in the low, grey light of early dawn, drawing in a deep breath as she rolled onto her back. Reaching her arms above her head, her back arched as she groaned with a stretch. The pleasant ache between her legs made her smile faintly as she glanced over to Jacob. He lay prone, his arms wrapped around the pillow tucked under him. She reached across the small space between them, brushing her knuckle over his temple.

Jacob stirred at that, one eye peeking open as he looked at her. Smiling sleepily and shifting onto his side, he reached to draw her into a kiss before wrapping her up in his arms.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he murmured, eyes closed as he pressed kisses against her crown. Ellie tilted her head to look up at him, smile broadening as her fingers drew across his cheek and lips.

“I could stand to wake up like this a few more times,” she mumbled with a happy sigh. Jacob laughed as he gave her a squeeze, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth.

“I could stand to wake up like this every morning,” he replied. Ellie snorted, but her cheeks flushed with warmth as she nuzzled into his chest, arms wrapping around his torso. Jacob held her a little tighter, pressing his face into her hair again.

“My girl…” he mumbled, fond but heartsick. “I’m going to miss you.”

Ellie grew tense. “Please don’t talk about that right now, Jacob,” she muttered, her nails digging into his back where she held him. “Let’s just pretend for a little while.”

Jacob nudged her chin to make her look up at him, and leaned down to press a tender kiss against her mouth. “As long as you need, sweetheart.”

She pulled herself in against him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “Just hold me, Jacob. Let me forget that there’s anything else but you and I, for a little while.”

He nodded as he kissed the crown of her hair. Ellie hummed, tracing her fingertips over the shape of his clavicle. She pressed a nibbling kiss to the dip of his collarbones, her lips curling into an impish grin.

“Every morning, hm?” She asked. Jacob breathed a laugh through his nose as he squeezed her and made a sound of agreement.

“From here, until we’re both old and grey, if I had anything to say about it,” he replied, pressing a few more kisses against her crown and forehead. Ellie held her breath as her face flushed with heat, and she pushed into the crook of his neck to hide her embarrassment.

Jacob smiled and leaned back, curling his fingers under her chin to tilt her face up. She met his gaze, and he could see the ruddiness of her cheeks beneath her freckles, which made his smile broaden into a grin.

“There she is,” he purred, leaning down to kiss her. She made a soft sound in her throat, putting her arms around his neck. He hummed in delight as he rolled them over, his fingers drifting through her hair and over the shape of her cheekbones as he pinned her beneath him. She gladly let him overtake her, returning his kisses until they had to pause, both flushed and breathless. Jacob’s kisses grew soft as he drew them over her face, and she could see the slight furrow in his brow.

“Jacob…” She whispered out his name like a prayer, calling for his attention, and his expression softened as he looked at her, raising a brow.

“Hm?” His thumb brushed over her cheek as he waited. She felt heat flood her cheeks as anxiety bloomed in her chest, and she swallowed.

“I—”

A soft knock sounded at the door. “Miss Blair, are you decent?” Connie’s voice called from the other side. Jacob and Ellie both looked between the door and each other in a sudden panic. Hurrying to untangle themselves, Jacob hopped off the side away from the door and crouched out of view as Ellie threw on her dressing gown.

“Just a moment, Connie!” She called, securing the ties as she approached the door. She pulled it open with a little more force than she meant to, startling the woman on the other side.

“Oh!” Connie cried in surprise. She looked at Ellie, whose chest heaved, and narrowed her eyes a little. “Good morning, Miss Blair. Is everything alright?”

“Yes! Everything’s fine, Connie. You just startled me, that’s all,” she assured her.

Connie’s brow furrowed as she glanced past Ellie, but she nodded. “As you say, Miss Blair. Your mother asked that I come rouse you. She said you have much to do yet before your departure later this morning,” she said.

Ellie nodded. “Of course, Connie. I’ll get ready and be down post-haste,” she said, standing to bar the maid’s entry as she moved to cross the threshold.

Connie looked confused, then nodded in kind. “Very well, Miss Blair,” she said with a short curtsy before turning to depart.

Ellie watched the older girl walk away down the hall, until she was out of sight, then closed her door again. When Jacob heard the soft click of her drawing the bolt into place again, he slowly stood up from where he’d hidden. Shifting where he stood, he began to scan the room, looking for his clothes.

“Well, you’d best start preparing for your day,” he mumbled, cheeks flushed. His expression was melancholy, and that wasn’t lost on her. She crouched to pick up his clothes, all still laying on the floor where they had been discarded the previous evening.

After a moment of regarding one another, Ellie crossed the space to stand before him. She set his clothes on the bed, then reached to cradle his face in her hands. His brow furrowed deeper, and he couldn’t help the slight scowl that crept onto his face. She wrapped her arms around his torso, and he responded in kind, burying his face into the crook of her neck. Stroking her fingers through his hair, she hummed soothingly.

After a time, she leaned back to look at him. “It’s only temporary, Jacob,” she insisted. By her tone, he couldn’t tell who she was trying to convince. “You know your father will send you to London, eventually. He has to.”

“ _Eventually_ ,” he bit. “How long will that take? He’s been talking about it for years, already. He was supposed to send us with you. Instead, you’re leaving to London on your own. I’m proud of you, but…”

He looked bitter, his face twisting into a scowl. “You’ll only be thirty miles away, I know, but I can’t help feeling that there’s someone better, waiting for you there, in London…”

“Jacob Frye.” Her voice and expression were equally stern, and it made Jacob fluster. “How dare you say that to me?” Her expression softened, but she looked hurt. Anxiety rose up in Jacob’s chest, and he began to fidget.

“I gave myself to you,” she whispered with a soft hitch in her breath. “Did that mean nothing?”

“It meant everything, Ellie,” he huffed, looking properly embarrassed. “I just don’t know how I’m meant to compete with them…”

“With who? Who are these imaginary people you’ve thought up that you think you need to compete with? And why should you have to compete with anyone?” She sounded upset, and her voice trembled. “I’m yours, Jacob. I always have been. What have I done to make you doubt?”

Jacob’s brow knit and he swallowed at the lump that had formed in his throat. “Nothing. You haven’t done anything to make me doubt, love, it’s just… you mean the world to me, and I don’t want to lose you.”

Ellie’s fingers traced the shape of his jaw and she leaned her forehead against his. “Do you trust me, Jacob?”

“I do,” he breathed, closing his eyes.

“Then trust that I’m yours. I am, I always have been, and I always will be. Six months from now, ten years, a hundred or more, I’ll be yours, darling. I promise.”

Jacob felt love and anguish bloom out in his chest as he looked at her. “I believe you, sweetheart,” he murmured, thumbing over the soft swell of her lips. “And just as you’re mine, I’m yours. I hope you know that, too.”

“I know,” she said, leaning in to kiss him again.

“No one else could put up with either of us,” she added after a moment with a cheeky smile. It broke the tension, and Jacob huffed a laugh, as exasperated as he was fond. He kissed her, again and again as his arms wrapped snugly around her waist. Pausing to lean his forehead against hers again, he sighed.

“I just don’t want to be without you,” he mumbled, his cheeks flushing. Ellie pressed her palm against his chest, her fingers splaying out and kneading into him.

“I know, darling,” she sighed. “I don’t want to be without you, either. I never did.” Her fingers eased up along his collarbones to thumb at the shilling around his neck.

“That’s why I gave you this. So that some part of me is still with you, even when I’m not here at your side.”

Jacob sighed. “And what have you to remember me by while you’re gone? You’ve given me this,” he said, closing his hand over hers on the shilling. “What have I given you?”

She looked at him, and the adoration and longing in her gaze made him feel warm.

“You,” she said with a soft smile. “You gave me your heart, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question, and Jacob held his breath, pressing his lips together.

“I love you.” The words came out so suddenly, he shocked even himself. Ellie's breath had caught in her throat, and Jacob swallowed.

“I love you, Ellie,” he repeated. His expression brimmed with hope and trepidation as he looked at her. Ellie drew in a breath, then huffed a laugh as a dam broke within her, and tears began to fall from her eyes. She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder.

“I love you, Jacob Frye,” she breathed out in a frantic rush. “With all my heart, I love you.”

He pulled away from her just enough to cradle her face in his hands, his own cheeks suddenly wet with tears that he couldn’t hold back. He had ached to say those words for so long, and some tiny part of him was still surprised that she had said it in return. His bewilderment endeared him to her, and Ellie laughed out a sob.

“Oh, Jacob,” she whispered, drawing him in for a kiss. He kissed back, frantic and messy.

“I love you,” he whispered out over and over between kisses, seeming intent on letting each one he had swallowed over the years come out, now. When they finally paused, Jacob took her hands into his, thumbs stroking across the backs of her palms. She leaned heavily against him, his own body trembling with nerves and excitement. The silence that settled between them was comfortable, and he leaned back just enough to touch his forehead against hers.

“I’m glad,” he mumbled absently. Ellie smiled as she leaned up to kiss the tip of his nose.

“Me, too. I’m sorry if I ever made you wonder…”

He shook his head, his gaze distant as he smiled. Ellie sighed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and they nuzzled into each other once more, pressed close in a warm embrace. His kisses this time were much softer, and Ellie whispered his name between them as her fingers slid up into his hair.

They both froze at the soft click of a key in the bolt of Ellie’s door, and the gentle _tap-tap_ of a knock as the door swung open.

“I’m sorry to intrude, Miss Blair, but— _oh!_ ” Connie’s voice broke the silence in the room.

Without releasing her hold on Jacob, Ellie turned over her shoulder to look at the flustered woman. Connie’s face, usually alabaster and serene, was a mask of embarrassment, flushed almost beet red at the sight of them.

“Miss Blair…” Connie’s tone was at once accusatory and concerned. Ellie carefully unwrapped herself from Jacob’s embrace and turned, using herself to shield him.

“I’ll be down soon, Connie. Tell mum I scattered my hairpins, and had to start over,” she said, her voice gentle. Connie swallowed, but nodded.

“I imagine they’ll be expecting Mister Frye sometime, as well,” Connie replied, still a bit breathless.

“And Mister Frye will be along sometime, as well,” Jacob chimed in, more than a little annoyed.

Connie flinched at his voice, and she grew even more flustered as she nodded, grabbing at her skirts. “Yes, of course! I shall take my leave, Miss Blair. Mister Frye.” She curtsied quickly, and hurried out of the room.

Ellie waited a long minute before she turned back towards Jacob. She looked at him apologetically, and he smiled in kind, taking her face in his hands. As they leaned their foreheads together once more, they both began to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

After a breath, Ellie sighed. “I’m sorry, Jacob. I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble.”

“I’m not in trouble, yet,” he replied, leaning in to kiss her again. “Besides, you’re worth all the trouble in the world, Ellie Blair.”

Ellie scoffed and gave his shoulder a gentle slap as she stepped away from him, but her cheeks still flushed with warmth. She moved to sit at her vanity, beginning the tedious process of plaiting her hair as she listened to the shuffle of him putting on his drawers and shirt. Another silence settled between them as Ellie worked her brush through her hair.

As she picked up her comb, Jacob’s figure appeared in the mirror behind her and they regarded each other for a long moment. He put his arms around her middle and gave her such a squeeze that it nearly knocked the breath out of her. She giggled as she felt him kiss the back of her hair.

“Go on, love. I’ll hurry back to my room and finish dressing. With any luck, I’ll be down not too terribly long after you,” he teased, giving the nape of her neck a soft bite in parting. Ellie swatted at him playfully, but watched with a longing expression as he crossed the room.

“Jacob,” she called to him as his hand grasped the latch.

He turned over his shoulder with a soft “Hm?” as he cocked a brow. Her expression was soft, and a little wanting, and it made warmth spread over his face again. She hurried to cross the space between them and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning in to press a kiss against his mouth in a single, fluid motion. He caught her in his arms, and held her tightly, his brow furrowing.

“I love you, Jacob Frye. Please don’t forget that.”

The pleasant ache of her words rose up in his chest and he drew in a tremulous breath. “So long as you don’t forget that I love you, too, Ellie Blair.”

Ellie nodded as she squeezed her eyes shut with a quiet sniffle. After a beat, he thumbed over her chin and pressed a parting kiss against her mouth.

“Now, go on. I’ll see you at breakfast, love,” he said, untangling himself from her and stepping out into the dim hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, please leave me a comment to let me know! It makes my day every time, and helps motivate me to continue writing! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡


	5. Bad Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into Ellie’s first mission, and how it went awry.

Two figures emerged from a grove of trees on the edge of a large estate garden. The sun had set nearly two hours ago, and the sky was thick with clouds and the distant rumble of thunder.

They stood for a long time at the edge of the grove, staring out over the hillock across the distance between themselves and the estate house. Ellie turned over her shoulder, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“I shall meet you at the horses. Look out for me,” she said, pulling up her hood. Ethan nodded once in acknowledgement.

Ellie picked her way carefully over the well-groomed garden, mindful of her footfalls. The closer she drew to the estate, the more tense her posture grew.

At the edge of the garden wall, she paused, pressing her back against it. Tipping her head up to draw in a deep, calming breath, she looked at the roiling clouds. A drop of rain struck her cheek, and she hurried to slip around through the entrance to the grounds.

Against the wall on the opposite side, she remained still. Staring at the estate house, she focused her Sight on the people inside.

On the ground floor, two women in the scullery, and a man in the kitchen. One woman in the dining room who seemed to be laying place settings, and another reclined in the parlour. Now, upstairs, three men. Two stood casually nearby a third, who was sat at a desk—James Addison, the man whose life she was here for.

She flexed her wrist, comforted by the nigh-imperceptible _snikt_ of the blade sliding out. Satisfied, she flexed again, and it slipped back into the gauntlet’s sheath. Letting her focus fade, the outline of her target remained at the edge of her vision, like a sunspot.

Rain began to patter down with a little more purpose, and she carefully shifted along the outer garden wall, watching the door to the scullery. The two women there moved into the kitchen. Seeing her chance, Ellie scurried across the green, pressing the door open on silent hinges. Setting it closed behind her, she crossed the room towards the servant stairwell, glancing up at the upper floor again. The first two men appeared to guard the door to the room her target was in. She frowned, glancing back into the scullery.

The cook—the man from the kitchen—barked orders about how to lay his dishes on the dining room table. She grew tense and glanced towards the entrance of the scullery as he drew near. The voice of one of the servants calling out drew him away again. Ellie let out the breath, and then her brow raised slightly as she caught sight of a spool of butcher’s twine on the table next to the entrance. She winced, quickly making her way towards it. Glancing around the edge of the entryway, she watched the cook’s back as he continued giving orders to the female servants.

She plucked the butcher’s twine from the counter, unfurling a length twice, folding it in half and securing the loop with a knot. Tying one end around the bottom of the table leg, she ghosted across the doorway and tied the other end around the leg of a large basin.

She glanced over her shoulder, her expression lined with a silent apology to whomever took the fall, then rushed towards the stairwell again.

At the top of the servant staircase, she waited. She could hear the muffled noises of the servants and cooks below her, but her attention was focused on the men at the doorway. _Snikt_. The blade slipped out, and her wrist relaxed as it slid back into place. She waited.

A great, cacophonous noise erupted from below—a woman’s shout, the sound of clattering pans, and the basin shattering as it toppled over. A moment later, the enraged sound of the cook’s voice. More screams and shouts joined the chorus of discord, and the noises of distress could be heard clearly on the upper floor. The guards exchanged looks, and the taller one nodded to the shorter, who hurried towards the main stairwell, and made his way down.

Ellie cracked open the door leading into the hall, and peeked out at the remaining guard, who was watching after the direction his companion had gone. The main stairwell was in front of him, leaving his back exposed to her. She slipped out of the servant stairwell, using the cover of a thunderclap to hide the sound.

_Snikt._ Ellie’s footfalls were silent as she prowled towards him. He leaned over, as if he were listening for the voice of his comrade among the hectic din of voices from below. Another roll of thunder, louder this time. She lunged forward.

The guard’s body went rigid with a final croak, Ellie’s blade brought to bear. She caught him as he fell, helping him to silently crumple to the floor. Her knees trembled, but she knelt beside him and closed his eyes, wiping her blade against his coat. The noise from downstairs began to fade, as if to signal her closing window of opportunity.

She pressed against the door to the chamber where her target sat, waiting for another roll of thunder. A flash, and loud clap that shook the house. Ellie pushed inside and set the door shut behind her as the thunder faded. _Snikt_.

He paused, and Ellie held her breath. He reached up to scratch behind his ear, but returned to his writing a moment later. She crept across the space towards him. Addison lay his quill pen down on the desk, and tilted his head to one side to stretch. In a single motion, Ellie closed the last of the distance between them, her blade brought to bear a second time.

The sound of Addison’s final noise was wet and gurgling, his body going limp a moment later. Ellie let him slump forward onto the desk, drawing back to take in a deep breath. From within her overcoat, she drew a silk handkerchief, and touched it to the wound she had left in Addison’s throat, soaking up his blood before whisking it away into her pocket once more.

Turning towards the door, she heard the distant footfalls of someone approaching up the stairwell. She cursed beneath her breath, and sprinted across the room, standing adjacent to the door. The footfalls became rushed, and they stopped just outside the door—checking his fallen comrade. Ellie focused her Sight on the remaining guard as he stood back up, growing tense as he drew a revolver out from his jacket. Carefully nudging the door open, he led with his gun.

She waited. Upon seeing Addison slumped over at his desk, he quickly tucked the revolver into the hem of his trousers and hurried across the space.

“Mister Addison— _shit!_ ” He cursed loudly, drawing back. While the guard was distracted by the corpse of his former employer, Ellie carefully moved towards the door to make her escape. As she took a step and bore her weight, the sound of the floorboards creaking was almost deafening—it seemed her luck had run out.

Ellie froze as the guard snapped his head around. In another motion, he whipped his revolver back out and fired both shots in quick succession. She ducked out of the way, wood splintering at her back as another roll of thunder roared out, deadening that sound.

The chamber empty and his quarry still alive, his face screwed up in a mask of rage, and he cursed as he cast the gun down. Reaching into his jacket, he withdrew dagger whose blade was as long as Ellie’s hand. She glanced towards the door, but knew fleeing was no longer an option. He crossed the space with some speed, but Ellie dove away from him, and his strike flew wide.

_Snikt._ He swung back around, and she tumbled away again, catching the back of his knee with her hidden blade. He let out an enraged snarl, and spun around for a third strike. Favouring his leg, Ellie was able to easily dodge him once again. He turned on her, and the two of them regarded each other for a long moment. His injured leg trembled, and his brow furrowed with effort.

Another clap of rolling thunder, and he threw himself at her. He stumbled off balance, and Ellie sidestepped to avoid him, but he swung wildly. Ellie jumped back to avoid his strike, at the same time driving her blade up into his throat.

Impaled on her hand, blood gushed down her wrist from the hole in his neck. He gurgled as more blood bubbled at the corners of his mouth, then down his chin.

The sound of the guard’s blade clattering to the floor made her jump, and she grimaced at the strangled noise that came from his mouth. She yanked her hand away, stumbling backwards as he crashed to the ground, convulsing. She stared down at him for a long moment as she began to tremble.

Looking between the body of the guard and Addison, she leaned heavily against the wall. A searing pain on her right side drew her gaze down, and she froze. On her torso, the layers of her overcoat and clothing had been slashed, and on her belly, a gash perhaps a quarter inch deep.

“ _Fuck…_ ” she hissed, tugging a clean handkerchief from her overcoat. Pressing it against the wound, her legs began shake beneath her. Her breathing suddenly hitched and grew beleaguered, as she looked around in a daze.

“Damn it,” she huffed out as she pressed her hand against her stomach. Moving to take a step, her knees folded, and she crumpled to the ground with a wail. She scrabbled to try and stand again.

She opened her mouth as if to call for someone, but instead only let out a sob of pain, trying at once to staunch the bleeding, and stand to flee. After another futile attempt to stand, she conceded, rolling onto her side and curling in on herself.

She let out a low whimper as blood spilled out between her fingers, pooling down to the floor. It snaked along the edges of the floorboards, running out rapidly. Too fast. _There’s too much blood…_

Jacob awoke with a start, sat upright as his chest heaved. He looked around, gathering his bearings as the image faded from behind his eyes. Turning the lamp key on his bedstand spilled more light into his room. Next to the lamp sat a letter.

_Ellie…_ Jacob picked up one of the unfolded pages and scanned the lines. _31 March 1866… Forever Yours, Eleanor Blair._ He rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm, trying to banish the fog of the dream from his vision. He stared at the letter for a long time as he re-read its passages, and then sighed.

“I miss you, love,” he mumbled, thumbing over the delicate cursive script of her name. He glanced across the room towards his desk, where his writing tools all lay. Ellie’s letter still clutched in his fingers, he stood, taking the oil lamp along with him. He set them both alongside a half-drunk cup of tea on the desktop, and for a moment, he imagined the sound of her voice chiding him for bringing tea to his room. It made him smile.

Swirling the brownish liquid around for a moment, he drank it back. It was cold, but tasted sweet, and he sat down in the chair. Pulling up his quill pen, he pulled up a few sheets of blank loose leaf, and set to writing.

_4 April 1866_

_Dear Ellie,_

_I write you now at half two in the morning, after I woke from an unpleasant dream. Tonight is the third time I’ve dreamt of you since you left. It’s the story you told us on that last night before your departure; do you remember?_

_You told us how you managed to complete your task, and how you got your scar. Each time I’ve had this dream, some small detail changes—it’s always the events towards the end. Each time has grown more disturbing than the last._

_I neglected to write to you about it the first two times—I thought perhaps because the memory of your story was so fresh in my mind that I just wanted I see you again, that I wanted to remember how skilled, how cunning, and how wily you are._

_The first time, I remembered your story as you’d told it—you made your escape without a hitch, down through the scullery._

_The time after that, you stumbled a little, and seemed to have trouble walking—there was so much blood, I remember, and you seemed weak. I was awoken that time before I could see what happened. It was difficult to think about it afterwards._

_This time… you fell. You bled out on the floor of the room… I know that part is nothing at all like the story you told us._

Jacob’s face scrunched up as he bit his lip, the already-faded memory of the dream still turning his stomach. He shook his head and rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm, banishing a few tears that popped up.

_I don’t know why my mind seems so intent on torturing me in your absence. Perhaps it is your absence that causes the torture._

_I don’t mean to alarm you, but I worry almost constantly, especially in these dark moments of solitude._

_I miss you so fiercely, sweetheart. I know you’re close, only thirty miles away, but I feel as if there’s more distance between us now than when you left for Portugal all those years ago._

_I know that when you read this, you’ll think me foolish for feeling so upset by a dream, and I know—as you do—that dreams cannot harm either of us, but I cannot shake this image from my mind, right now, raw as I am._

Jacob paused for a moment, looking down at his hands for a moment. “Dream or no… it seemed real enough,” he muttered, rubbing sorely at his eyes again. He took up his pen once more.

_No matter how I remind myself that my dreams cannot hurt you, the idea of you having fallen instead still haunts me. I can remember quite vividly that for a long time after you disappeared in December, I thought there could be no other alternative._

_I love you, Ellie. I love you, and I want a future with you. So, sweetheart, you must promise me that you won’t let anything happen to you in the meantime. There’s much yet left for you and I to do together._

Jacob paused as he read over the last few sentences he wrote, and flustered a little. He glanced at Ellie’s letter next to him on the desk, and sighed.

“Well, it’s not a lie, anyway. Nothing to be done for it, now,” he mumbled to himself, his cheeks flushed red as he carried on.

_Moving on to more pleasant topics, I wish to thank you for your most recent letter. As with all of your letters, I read them in moments when I need to feel closer to you. I do my best to imagine your dulcet voice reading them aloud to me—it grows more difficult with time. Still, your most recent letter at my bedside tonight helped to ground me when I awoke, and reminded me that you’re still well and alive, and hopefully happy, somewhere in London._

_I don’t know whether I can expect these dreams to continue, though if this trend is any indication, I imagine they will, and they will only worsen. I take solace in the fact that I’ll see you again soon, and I intend to be ready to accompany you back to London, when I do._

_Four months seems like an eternity while I miss you each and every day, but if I must bear this knowing that my reward at the end of it is to see your beautiful smile and hear the pleasant sound of your laugh again, then I will do so with only some complaint._

He smiled a little as he imagined her rolling her eyes as she read that particular paragraph, then glanced over at her letter again. Fingering over the flourish of her signature, he lifted the pages up and drew in a slow breath. The smell of her jasmine oil on the pages was growing more and more faint by the day, but it was still there, for now.

_The drops of jasmine oil on your letters are greatly appreciated, as well. The smell of your skin could never fail to provide me with comfort. It also provokes a much more base instinct in me from time to time, but I believe it would be impolite to write about it in a letter to such a fine lady._

_(Truthfully, I’d much rather whisper it in your ear, but such things are difficult with thirty miles between us…)_

He paused again to rub at his forehead, a ripple of warmth spreading out across his skin from his core. For a brief moment, the memory of their last night together in Crawley passed through his mind, and heat flooded his cheeks. He cleared his throat as he shook his head again, rubbing at the back of his neck.

_To shift to a more polite topic, you mentioned meeting a Sergeant Abberline. I think it most interesting that we have an ally on the police force. I have faith that you’ll maintain that relationship smoothly. Tell me, what’s he lik_ e?

_Does he seem particularly straight-edge? He mustn’t be too terribly ‘by the book’ if he’s keen and willing to cavort with people like us, but I’m most curious to find out what his motives are._

Jacob glanced at the letter again, re-reading Ellie’s passage about the ‘charming gentleman’ named Ned Wynert. He bristled a little at the way she described him, and his quill pen hovered over the page for a long time before he finally continued.

_Tell me about Mister Wynert, as well. You say he’s a businessman, but the fact that you neglected to say what sort makes me think it must be something illicit or contraband._

_If he’s a businessman, what interest does he have in associating with us, if not for his own gain and benefit? What’s his angle? You say he’s shrewd, so he’s certainly not interested in helping our cause out of the goodness of his own heart. What’s your reading on him? Does he seem like the staunch, reliable sort, or irresolute and fairweather?_

Jacob looked over his words, and nodded to himself as he folded up her letter again, taking a last breath of the faint jasmine oil on its pages before he returned to his own papers.

_I’ll conclude this letter for now, with the request that you should think of me as fondly and hotly as possible in your moments of quiet solitude. Carry the promise of my love, as I carry yours, until next we meet._

_All my love,_

_Jacob Frye_

Jacob withdrew an envelope from the small cubby on his desk next to his ink pots, turning it over to write Ellie’s address in Whitechapel. He felt suddenly uneasy again, but squared his shoulders as he finished writing, folding the letter and tucking it in. He glanced to his bedroom window, the light of a full moon trickling in through the curtain.

He lifted his pocket watch to check the time. _Nearly four in the morning._ He sighed as he rubbed his hands over his face, standing from his desk again, taking only his oil lamp as he plodded back to his bed.

Setting the lamp on the bed stand, Jacob settled into the bedsheets once more, tugging one of his pillows away from the headboard to wrap himself around it. He could imagine the firm line of her body, her soft skin, and silken hair, and even the faint smell of jasmine oil. The soft lumpiness of the pillow prevented him from fully realizing it in his mind’s eye, and he squeezed his eyes just as he squeezed the pillow.

_I miss you, love. I can’t wait to see you again._

* * *

“Oh, Miss Blair,” Henry’s voice called out as Ellie entered the curio shop.

“Good afternoon, Henry. How’s business?” She asked as she approached him. Henry smiled faintly as he nodded.

“As well as can be expected. Benny has asked for our assistance at a small textiles factory later this evening, if you’ve some free time?” He inquired.

Ellie nodded. “Of course.”

“There’s also another letter here for you, from Mister Frye,” he said, offering the envelope up to her. Ellie’s expression became one of genuine delight as she took it from him.

“Oh! Already?” She replied, seeming surprised. Henry’s smile became just a little cheeky as he nodded.

“If you’d like to read it right away, you’re welcome to go upstairs and sit in the parlour,” he offered. Ellie stared at the envelope for a long time, thumbing over Jacob’s fine script. She finally managed to peel her gaze away from it, turning her attention to Henry.

“What time are we meant to meet with Benny this evening?” She asked. The sudden seriousness of her expression made his brow furrow in concern.

“We’re to meet him in Southwark, around 8,” he replied. “Is something the matter?”

Ellie shook her head as her expression softened. “I’m not sure. I’d love to save reading Jacob’s letter until our business with Benny has concluded, but I feel something important must have happened if he wrote me back so soon after I wrote him this last time,” she said, tucking the letter into her overcoat. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll return to my let room, but I shall be back here by 6:30 to prepare for our meeting with Benny,” she assured him.

Henry nodded sagely. “Of course, Miss Blair.”

Ellie smiled gratefully as she nodded in kind, and a moment later, she was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, please leave me a comment to let me know! It makes my day every time, and helps motivate me to continue writing! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡


	6. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie returns, as planned. And then things don’t go according to plan.

Ethan Frye stood on the platform, awaiting the disembarkment of passengers at Crawley station. A train had arrived from London, and picking the young Eleanor Blair out in a crowd of pale faces should have been an easy task, but there had been no sign of her.

“Master Frye.” The abrupt sound of Ellie’s voice cut through the din of other passengers swirling about on the platform.

He regarded her for a moment, and she curtsied to him. Offering no words in greeting, he turned on his heel, and she followed after him in silence. He led her to a waiting carriage that she recognized as being from the Estate grounds. She waved to the driver, a man named Nathaniel, who tipped his hat and smiled in greeting. Ellie piled into the carriage, and Ethan hopped up to sit across from her. With a rapt knock on the wall from Ethan, the carriage lurched into motion.

Ellie drew up the end of her braid in her hand, rolling it through her fingers as she stared out the carriage window. Ethan watched her, pursing his lips.

“Are you nervous?”

Ellie’s attention drew to him as she cocked a brow. “Hm? About what?”

“Treating with the Council,” Ethan replied, as if it should have been obvious.

Ellie smiled a little. “Not really, no. Why do you ask?”

“You only fidget when you’re nervous,” he said, pointing to the tail of her braid, still twirling through her fingers. She looked down at it, then laughed.

“Oh, that. No, not nervous. Apprehensive. Excited, perhaps, but not about the Council. They’ve had months to review my briefings, and I’ve spent two weeks preparing for this meeting,” she said. After a pause, she went on with a fond smile.

“I’m just eager to see everyone again—six months is a long time.”

“Perhaps it’s best not to get your hopes up,” Ethan commented.

Ellie’s brow furrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

“I mean that the Council are very set in their ways, as you well know. It’s best not to put too much faith in them,” he advised. Ellie narrowed her eyes.

“Be that as it may, they are my only option, and so I have no choice but to have faith that they will see reason,” she replied. After a moment, her expression became one of suspicion. “Is there something you wish to tell me, Master Frye?”

He didn’t answer, but looked out the opposite window of the carriage. Ellie watched him for a long minute, waiting to see if he would answer her. When it became clear that he was intent on ignoring her, she relented and turned to look out the window again.

The small city proper of Crawley swiftly faded into farmland, pastures, and orchards. Perhaps three quarters of an hour passed, and they turned onto a cobbled drive. The carriage ambled to a halt, and Ethan stood to step down out of the box.

“We’re here,” he said, straightening his cravat. “Come on.”

Ellie hurried past him, rushing inside to discard her satchel and overcoat in the mudroom. Eager to see to her task, she bounded ahead, slipping through hidden alcoves and hurrying down a carved stone stairwell to the basement beneath the basement.

Two armed guards stood before the Council’s chamber, and while they appeared ominous and foreboding, she knew they posed no threat to her.

_The Council certainly do love their pomp and circumstance, though_ , Ellie mused, waiting for them to open the doors.

She entered the Council’s meeting chamber, followed by Ethan. The doors closed behind her with a low, groaning creak. The five members of the Council were already present, awaiting the young Assassin’s arrival.

Elder Ball, a mountainous man with a thick, dark beard, stood at the head of a long table. He was flanked on his right by Elders Sutcliffe and Davies, and on his left by Elders Pendergast and Thompson. Ellie’s nose wrinkled as it always did at the shape of the table, but she came to stand some few paces before it.

“Miss Blair,” Elder Ball acknowledged her, and she nodded in kind. Pressing her right hand over the left side of her chest in a gesture of respect, she began.

“As requested, I bring news of London to the Council.”

A long silence followed, and her brow furrowed. _Why haven’t they asked me to speak yet?_ After several more seconds passed, Elder Davies turned her gaze on the young Assassin.

“We thank you for your service, Miss Blair,” she began. “The Council has spent a great deal of time in review of your written briefings, and along with Master Frye, have determined that we shall not press London further at this time.”

Ellie was unable to hide her shock, and felt a sudden, unpleasant roiling in her gut that moved up into her chest. She began to tremble. “But… I haven’t even had a chance to speak yet? I am confident that if the Council hears—”

“We understand you may have additional information to pass on, beyond your written briefings that you have provided in the preceding months,” Elder Sutfcliffe interrupted her. “However, this Council has considered the information you have already provided meticulously prior to your arrival, and have determined that now is not an opportune time to strike against the Templars. We do not feel the situation in the city is so dire that we require greater insurrection at this time.”

Ellie bristled, but kept her tone in check, if only barely. “With respect, _sir_ , the city _is_ in dire need—”

“Miss Blair,” Elder Pendergast snapped, interrupting her. “You have not been given further leave to speak.”

Ellie bowed her head, and her hands balled into tight fists at her sides, her expression twisting. Seeing that she was sufficiently mollified, Elder Pendergast went on.

“The Brotherhood appreciates the work you have done for us thus far. However, the situation in London has been discussed _at length_. Now is _not_ the time to strike. We will not endanger our entire enclave and risk losing England entirely.”

“ _We already have!_ ” Ellie shouted, speaking out of turn once more. She turned her angry gaze on the five Elders. “We have damn well lost London as it is, and _you lot_ —”

“Miss Blair!” Elder Thompson’s shrill voice called out over hers. “If you continue to speak out of turn, you _will_ be censured, and relieved of your duties.”

Ellie bit her tongue so hard she tasted copper, and bowed her head again, cursing inwardly. A long, tense silence followed.

“Miss Blair,” Elder Ball’s low baritone commanded her attention. She looked up at him, unable to hide her anger or disdain.

“It does not please us to disappoint, however we must consider our actions carefully. Our options are severely limited. Our enclave does not boast the numbers, nor the resources that the Templars of London do. We risk countless lives to attack them more directly. We will continue to expect your written briefings in the coming months, and should an opportunity present itself, we will open discussion of this matter once more.”

A moment of silence hovered between them, and Ellie drew in a breath. “Sir—Elder Ball, please—”

“Miss Blair—” Elder Thompson snapped again, interrupting the young Assassin. Elder Ball held up a hand to silence her.

“Let her speak, Gertrude,” he commanded, then turned back to Ellie. “Please continue, Miss Blair.”

Ellie nodded gratefully. “Thank you, sir. Please, Elder Ball, I don’t ask the Council to risk our entire enclave at Crawley. I ask only for a small vanguard—just a few of us—to return to London with me. We require precious little in the way of resources, only someone who could rally the people, and let them take back the city for themselves. We can operate from the shadows and remove the most egregious resistance, as we always have. The people will do the rest,” she put in, looking at him imploringly. She heard the disgruntled muttering of the other Elders, but her gaze was focused on Elder Ball, who regarded her for a long minute.

“You sound as if you have given this deep thought. I assume you have an idea of who it is you expect us to send back to London with you, as well,” Elder Ball replied, his brow furrowing. Ellie held her breath as she nodded. Elder Ball nodded for her to go on.

“Jacob and Evie Frye, sir—”

“Absolutely not,” Ethan spat. “Jacob and Evie are nowhere near ready to face London.”

Ellie looked at him in shock, then back at Elder Ball, whose expression softened as he looked at her apologetically.

“I am sorry, Miss Blair, but I cannot overrule the word of their guardian. If Master Frye feels his children are not ready to broach London, then we must defer to his judgement,” Elder Ball put in. Ellie’s expression twisted, and the Elder nodded towards her.

“Is there anyone else we may consider for such a request?” He added.

“No, sir,” she murmured, shaking her head.

Elder Ball nodded sagely. “Very well. Then, our decision remains unchanged—we shall not press London further at this time. You are free to return to London at the discretion of your patron,” he concluded.

Ellie clenched her jaw so hard that it ached, and she felt her despair well up in her throat like bile. She swallowed it down. _Don’t let them see it. Use your words._

She drew in a slow breath, rolling her shoulders back and standing straight once more as she clasped her hands behind her back. Despite trying to force an expression of neutrality, she was unable to mask the disdain of her gaze.

“Very well. I understand this Council’s decision alongside Master Frye, and I shall respect it. However, I ask that the Council _and_ Master Frye consider that I disagree completely with their findings—we _must_ take action against the Templars now, and Jacob and Evie _are_ ready to face them.”

Her voice trembled as she went on. “I shall return to London and continue to aid Mister Green until such time as the Council requests my return. I thank for your time.”

She didn’t offer any gesture of respect, nor did she wait to be dismissed, but spun on her heel and stalked out of the room, throwing the doors open in a huff. The guards outside startled in surprise, and Ellie stalked back down the torch-lit hallway towards the staircase. Her footfalls were heavy and deliberate as she stomped up to the main level of the mansion. Ethan followed after her in silence, a slight scowl in his face.

“It took me more time to _get here_ than it did to meet with them. This is _ridiculous!_ ” She snarled, pacing in the front parlour. “And _you!_ ” She pointed an accusatory finger at Ethan.

“You would let your children waste their talents here in Crawley, doing _nothing_ , while they could be in London, freeing the city from Templar control and saving her people. _Not ready_ , you say, as if I was somehow more ready six months ago than they are now?” Her voice rose with each syllable, and Ethan regarded her with a cold stare.

“Have a care how you speak to your betters, Miss Blair,” he hissed. Ellie scoffed as she rolled her eyes.

“My betters? Oh, you mean the men and women who are beyond my years, and supposedly beyond my skill, but too fearful to take action? Men and women who are content to lounge in their estates and mansions barely thirty miles away, as if their comforts will protect them when the Templars finally come after they’ve ruined London?” She spat. Ethan scowled.

“Well, then you’d better get to work taking them down, hadn’t you?” He shot back. Ellie nearly reeled back in shock, and squared her snarl up against his glower.

“How dare you?” She snapped. “You put two people up against an impossible task, only one of whom can be actively effective, and expect results? I may have been unable to topple an entire enterprise of Templars who have ingrained themselves to the city for over over a century, but I have done more in the last six months than any of you lot have done in the last _twenty years_.”

A long moment passed as they regarded each other with spite and vitriol. It was an Initiate who interrupted them.

“Master Frye, Mister Waterton is waiting down the drive with his carriage,” she said, quickly glancing at Ellie. Ellie’s expression darkened as she leveled her glare at Ethan once more.

“Thank you, Miss Ball,” he replied, turning to face the younger girl with a pleasant smile. “Please let the Elders know that we’ve departed.”

The younger girl nodded. She caught herself as she turned to leave, quickly palming her chest in a gesture of respect before scurrying away. Ellie’s hand on her hip, she pinched the bridge of her nose as she sighed.

“I’d like a moment to collect myself before I have to sit in an enclosed space with you for another hour,” she muttered bitterly.

“ _Alone_ ,” she added, as Ethan opened his mouth to respond. He frowned, but nodded once as he turned towards the mudroom. When he was gone, Ellie sat down on the plush settee, and with a great, heavy sigh, set her head in her hands. A beat passed in silence before she sat back.

“I suppose I’m back to square one, aren’t I,” she mumbled, looking at her hands as she set her elbows on her knees.

“The two of you should have been able to come with me six months ago,” she murmured, though the subjects of her conversation weren’t there. “How much longer will your father hold you back?”

She rubbed her forehead and pushed up off the settee to stand. “Well, I suppose there’s no sense in delaying this any longer than I have already. And the sooner we return to Crawley, the sooner I can see my parents, and Evie and Jacob,” she murmured, standing in front of the small mirror near the parlour door. She smoothed back a few wayward hairs and patted her cheeks, then adjusted her cravat and departed the parlour.

Ethan was waiting for her in the mudroom, and stood as she entered. Her face twisted into a scowl upon seeing him again. She didn’t speak to him, nor regard him as she pulled her overcoat on, and picked up her satchel. Ethan pulled the door open and stood aside to let her leave first.

Nathaniel sat atop his carriage a little ways down the drive, and Ellie slung her satchel over her shoulder as she trudged along.

“I did warn you not to get your hopes up,” Ethan commented as they piled into the carriage together. Her shoulders grew tense.

“Yes, I know,” she snarled, leveling him with a look of disdain. “I’m sure you delight in the fact that I’m so disappointed, and that you had a hand in it.”

Ethan sighed. “That’s besides the point. It is not a revelation to the Council or myself that we have all but lost London to the Templars as we stand now, but we— _they_ don’t know how to approach the situation without putting countless lives at risk, Assassin or otherwise.”

“Is it so difficult? They only need do as I asked of them in each of my missives, and today at our meeting: _send a small vanguard_. Only a few people, not more than three. What the people need is a rallying cry—a common banner under which to unite. Send someone to whom the people can relate—someone who could inspire them to come together, and see beyond themselves. If we can can do that, they can take back the city on their own,” Ellie replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

“And why can’t you do so? Inspire them, as you say?” Ethan’s voice was strained, and he frowned with disapproval.

Ellie laughed dryly. “You already know why. I’m the wrong sex for such a job, but more than that, I’m the wrong colour, as well.”

Her gaze became distant for a brief moment, then she focused on Ethan again. “You already know _exactly_ who I meant when I said ‘a small vanguard.’ You say that Evie and Jacob aren’t ready, but you’re wrong. I was no more ready than they were six months ago, but the Council still sent me. I can only imagine that they’re _more_ ready now. Send them.”

A beat of silence followed, and Ellie’s frown deepened.

“I’ve seen what Starrick and the Templars are doing even more first-hand than you have. You’d been into the city before I had, of course, but for how long? A few days at a time? _Hours_ , if you consider the last six months. You hide away in the safety of Crawley like the Council Elders, and squander your children’s talents,” Ellie snarled, her anger rising again.

“That’s enough—”

“I agree!” Ellie interrupted him before he could go on. “Henry and I are doing what we can for the city and her people, but it is _not enough_. They _need_ a rallying cry. The Assassins are not long for England if we cannot do more against the Templars than we are doing now.

“What can Henry do but build networks of information and contacts? Such things are useful, but how to put them into action? There is only so much I can do on my own. Starrick’s street gang and their stranglehold on the criminal underworld make it nearly impossible to make good use of the information we _can_ gather. Beyond that, I am alone. Henry is skilled, of that there is no question, but he detests violence. He is kind and he is brilliant, but he is soft. It is an admirable quality to possess, but when we need to take aggressive—and indeed, sometimes violent—action against our enemies, such sentiment is a luxury we cannot afford.”

A moment passed, and the furrow in Ellie’s brow deepened. “I am skilled—that I have been given to London _alone_ could attest to that,” she put in. “But I alone am not enough. We need—”

“Patience, Ellie.”

“ _Patience_ ,” she sneered. “You sound like the Council.”

He looked affronted, but she ignored it as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“The people are suffering, and it will only continue to get worse if we do not _act_. The freedom of the people of London can live or die at the whim of a single man, and that cannot be allowed. Ezio Auditore rallied the people of Rome and united them under the banner of the Assassin cause three centuries ago. The same thing could be done again, yet the Council—and you, by proxy—see fit to tuck away into your little hidey holes, safe and sound in Crawley while the people of London languish for your hesitation. If Starrick takes London—and he has set himself a course to do so—all of England will be at risk. Perhaps the entire world. He will root out what little influence we have left, and we will be destitute.”

Ellie paused, then huffed out a sigh. “You know all of this, and you know, too, that Jacob and Evie want to risk their lives for the cause, as I have. As Henry has. But you’re too afraid.” She matched her gaze against his, her stare accusatory and cold. “Just like the Council.”

“I’ve heard enough,” Ethan spat.

“As have I!” Ellie squared her shoulders in defiance. “I’ve also _seen_ enough to know what I say is true. Carry on as you like here in Crawley. I’ll only say this: don’t let their talents languish too much longer. For their sake, or London’s.”

A tense silence settled over the carriage as it lumbered along, the two of them staring each other down for some long minutes. Ellie finally turned her gaze out over the countryside to watch it whisk by.

As they finally arrived back to the city proper, she sat forward, hands hugging her knees as the tension in her body began to fade. She watched as they approached the lane she knew the Frye house resided on, her heart fluttering in her chest. When the carriage trundled past it, she felt her stomach drop, and a sudden rush of anxiety welled up in her throat. She turned her sharp gaze towards Ethan.

“Am I to meet the twins elsewhere?”

Ethan shook his head. “Jacob and Evie are busy, and you’ve a train to catch,” he muttered, handing her an envelope. Ellie felt herself trembling, and snatched it from his hand to peer inside.

Her face fell. “This… what is this?” She looked between the envelope and Ethan in disbelief. “Jacob and Evie are both expecting me. As are my parents. I was meant to stay in Crawley until Sunday, and you’re sending me back this afternoon?” Ellie tugged her pocket watch out to look at the time, and her eyes widened. “Twenty minutes from now, no less?”

Ethan’s expression remained neutral as he stared at her. Ellie felt the sting of tears prick at her eyes, and a hard, unyielding lump formed in her throat.

Her voice shook. “You knew, didn’t you…”

He raised a brow. “Knew what, Miss Blair?”

“ _Don’t_ patronise me!” Ellie snarled. “You knew the Council were going to deny my request. You knew they’d be too afraid to send someone back with me, whether I was allowed to argue my points or not. And you aided them! You abetted their decision by denying Evie and Jacob the chance to go, out of your own _fear_.”

After a pause, Ethan shrugged.

“ _Damn it!_ ” Ellie slammed her fist into the carriage wall, and the sound of the panel cracking made Ethan’s brows shoot up in surprise. The ferocity of her gaze as she stared him down nearly made him shrink away from her.

He hesitated for a brief moment, then huffed a sigh. “I knew it was a waste of your time to come back. I brought that up to the Council, and they said they wanted to deliver the news themselves—they felt it would soften the blow,” he said.

“And this?” She snapped, holding up the envelope with the train ticket inside. He turned his gaze out the carriage window.

“I saw no point in keeping you longer than necessary.”

“I see,” she hissed, trembling with anger. “A _day_ would have sufficed—it’s been _six months_.” A breath. “How could you?”

Ethan didn’t speak as he stared across the space at her. When the carriage lurched to a stop, Ellie slammed the door open so hard it swung back on its hinges. She hopped down into the muddy street, tugging her satchel along with her. Ethan stepped down to accompany her, but she held a hand up to stop him.

“Don’t bother,” she snapped. “I can find the platform on my own.”

“Ellie—”

“ _Piss off, Ethan_. You can pretend to care for my feelings until you’re blue in the face, but your actions have spoken for you.”

Ethan balked, and opened his mouth to protest, but Ellie went on.

“I can find the train just fine on my own, _Master Frye_ ,” she sneered. After a pause, she looked at him with such derision that he startled. “Do come to call when it suits you.”

* * *

Jacob and Evie were stood together in the foyer of their family home. Jacob was restless, and fidgeted as they waited. He continued to glance at the wall clock every few moments, rocking on his heels.

“Stop fidgeting so much, Jacob,” Evie scolded him. Jacob made a face at his sister.

“I can’t help it,” he muttered. “Aren’t you excited at all?”

“Of course I am!” She snapped. “She’s my best friend, too, you know. But fidgeting won’t make them arrive any fast—”

Evie’s grumbling was interrupted by the sound of a key in the door latch. The twins held their breath and turned towards the entrance, eager and apprehensive in equal measure. They were met by their father, who wore a slight scowl as he pushed the door open.

“Hello, Father,” Evie greeted him with a pleasant smile. Jacob was already leaning over to look past him.

“She’s not with me,” Ethan said.

“Oh,” Evie frowned a little, looking disappointed. “Is she still treating with the Council?” she asked hopefully.

“She’s returned to London.”

“What?” The twins chimed in unison. Evie was crestfallen, but Jacob bristled.

“Why?” He demanded. “She told us she’d be staying in Crawley for the rest of this week, and then returning to London on Sunday.”

Ethan sighed. “She’s returned to London,” he repeated.

“Yes, you’ve said as much, but you haven’t said _why_ , Father,” Jacob insisted. Ethan turned a glower towards his son.

“The Council had already made their decision about London some weeks ago, and informed me they had no intent to send further aid. Not now. She shouldn’t have even come back to Crawley at that, but the Council saw fit to make a spectacle of it,” he muttered.

He couldn’t tell if his father was annoyed with him for pressing, or with Ellie, whom Jacob suspected gave him quite the earful before she was made to depart.

“You could have at least let her stay for a day or two. Why did you send her back so quickly?” Jacob asked, looking cross.

“What makes you think it was my decision?” Ethan rebuked.

Jacob didn’t bother trying to hide his scowl now. “You know Ellie made plans with the both of us—we’ve talked of nothing else for weeks. She wouldn’t have simply foregone that just because the Council decided to wet their drawers. The only reason she would have left so suddenly is because she was forced to. And you’re her patron—she comes and goes at _your_ leisure. What else are we meant to think?”

Ethan’s expression darkened. “The Council asked that I not keep her longer than necessary.”

Jacob seethed, squaring his angry stare against his father’s. He seemed to weigh whether or not it was worth arguing.

“When does her train depart?” He demanded.

“A quarter to four,” Ethan replied.

Jacob glanced at the wall clock, and cursed aloud. It was already ten minutes to four, and so the train had already left the station. His anger rose up in his throat like bile. He rounded his stare on his father once more, then turned and stomped away up the stairs. The door to his room slammed shut so hard that the walls shook a little, and a small portrait fell off the wall, shattering the glass.

Ethan looked to Evie, who startled him with her glare. Her hands flexed at her sides, and her jaw was set. Her mouth screwed up a little and she drew in a breath to try and calm herself.

“Well… I think it best that I return to my studies, then,” she muttered, her voice quaking. Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heel and stalked away, leaving Ethan stood alone in the foyer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, please leave me a comment to let me know! It makes my day every time, and helps motivate me to continue writing! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡


	7. Photography

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins receive a pleasant surprise.

The grating sound of the doorbell startled Jacob from his studies. He turned over his shoulder.

“Evie?” He called across the study.

“Not me,” she replied. Jacob made a dismissive noise and turned back to his book. A moment later, the bell rang again, and he heard the distinct sound of knocking. He rolled his eyes as he stood.

“Well, they’re either very persistent, or it’s a neighbour,” Jacob put in, stalking down the hall. Evie followed after him, grumbling under her breath.

Jacob pulled the door open. “Mister Blair,” he blurted, startled to see Ellie’s parents stood on the stoop. Priya laughed.

“You took your time answering,” she needled him. “Here, take this, darling,” she added, pushing a wax paper-wrapped box into his arms.

“Would you like to come inside?” Evie asked, motioning inward. Isaiah shook his head as he offered a second package to her.

“No, that’s fine, Evie. Pri and I just got back from London, and thought we would stop by to drop off your packages,” he replied.

“London? Has something happened?” Jacob interjected. “Is Ellie alright?”

Priya giggled as she tapped the box in his arms. “Ellie’s just fine, Jacob. We went into the city for her birthday, that’s all,” she said. Jacob let out a sigh of relief, then looked quizzically at her.

“Some gifts from Ellie—she mentioned that she missed your birthday, and she also sent a letter for each of you,” Priya put in, watching as Jacob’s eyes lit up.

“Now then, apologies for the sudden intrusion and swift departure, but we must be off,” Isaiah said. The twins nodded, and Isaiah tipped his hat as his wife curtsied.

They hurried down the steps and piled back into the waiting carriage, and as quickly as they’d come, they were off.

Jacob and Evie looked at one another, and then at the packages in their arms. Evie knocked the door closed with her hip, and they both scurried up to their rooms.

Jacob tore eagerly into his box, just as he heard Evie doing the same to hers across the hall. On top of neatly folded tissue paper sat an envelope, his name written in fine cursive script. He cracked it open and tugged the pages out to read. A smaller envelope tumbled to the floor, and Jacob glanced at it as he crossed to his bed and sat down, but remained focused on the letter in his hands.

_8 December 1866_

_My darling Jacob,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I must open with an apology for not writing you sooner—I haven’t an excuse, unfortunately. Please only know that I am sorry for the delay._

_As you may know by now (given that they should have delivered this letter to you themselves), my parents made a surprise trip into London to see me this past week. It was lovely to see them again after so long; the life I live here in the city has become familiar to me, but to be reminded of my old life is still a blessing._

_London is ever the same as the last time I wrote you—like the Hydra of Lerna, if you cut off one head, three more will arrive to take its place. I chip away as I can at the blight of Templars in this city, but I fear my sole effort is not enough. I know you haven’t leave to come, but I wish you did. There is so much good you could do here—of that I am certain, no matter what your father says._

_More than that, however—and perhaps selfishly so—I miss you. I can only hope your father will see reason sooner, rather than later._

Jacob felt an anxious warmth bloom out in his chest, and he squirmed a little as he thumbed over the cursive script on the page. _I miss you, too, sweetheart…_ He cleared his throat as he shook his head, turning his attention back to the letter.

_Let us not focus on such matters, for now. Please write me soon, and tell me all I’ve missed. It has been difficult to sit down and put pen to paper, despite my days becoming mundane. This city seems to have a tendency to make one melancholy, and I fear it has begun to affect me, as well. I find myself listless and foggy of late, and though I know my purpose, I often feel empty of one._

_Forgive me, I don’t mean to fret, nor to foist burden upon you. Henry is a dear friend, but I miss the companionship of the Brotherhood at Crawley. We are so very isolated here, which is terribly ironic, considering there are a hundred times more people here than in Crawley, and yet… it’s lonely._

_I have begun to look for ways to help, rather than waiting for them to come to me, as I did in the beginning—this has been of some benefit to improve my mood._

_To that end, Sergeant Abberline is a wealth of opportunities, and so I spend a great deal of time helping him. Last Thursday, I helped deliver a scoundrel who had been hiding under a pseudonym in Southwark borough. He was wanted for a number of burglaries and thefts, so while it’s not all that impressive, it pleases me to know I’m helping the people of the city. Moreso, however, I’m pleased that it has caused mischief for the Templars._

_For the most part, the men and women I’m “collecting” for the good Sergeant are miscreants and criminals who operate under the banner of the Blighters, and therefore, Starrick and the Templars, by proxy._

_Mister Wynert has also been useful in some ways, though to a different aspect than that of Sergeant Abberline. Whereas I believe Mister Abberline’s intentions are altruistic in nature, Ned’s are of a slightly different calibre._

_Mister Wynert does care about the city, to some degree—of that I have no doubt—but he is a businessman first, and a citizen second. I would not normally deign to accept requests for assistance with petty theft—train robberies, hijacking cargo shipments, and the like—however, it causes disruption to Starrick’s industry, and therefore, I’m happy to do it._

_Assisting Ned with his requests has also provided Henry and I with some income on which to live. We do receive a stipend from the Council, of course, but even combined, it is barely enough to scrape by on._

_With the additional income I’ve been able to make from “redirecting” Templar resources to Mister Wynert’s operations, Henry and I have been able to live more comfortably. More than that, however, especially with the weather becoming less pleasant, we’ve been able to help some of the local parishes to run soup kitchens, distribute blankets, and things of that nature._

_Henry has begun providing more opportunities to take on Templars, as well. I think he worried in the beginning that pitting me against them more directly was too dangerous, but I believe I’ve managed to prove myself well enough. I know he detests violence, and has shied away from the more unpleasant aspects of our work but… well, that’s a large part of the reason I was given leave to come here, I think…_

_I’ve also recently become acquainted with a young girl named Clara O’Dea. She’s taken it upon herself to begin managing the welfare of the urchins in Whitechapel, and the surrounding boroughs. She’s still quite young, not more than ten years old, but smart as a whip, and twice as capable._

_Miss O’Dea’s concerns are factories and warehouses where the labour of children is commodified and exploited. I’ve begun to investigate a few of the leads she has given me, and the number of children under her care and protection seems to grow each day. I think you and Evie would both like her—she’s quite the bricky thing._

_To speak to my parents’ visit, we had our family  portrait taken at a lovely studio in SoHo. The photographer was a very friendly young gentleman, and truly passionate about his craft. He even had us smile for the portrait—how delightful! I think that might be the first portrait in at least five years where we don’t all have to look so dour._

_There was a lovely newlywed couple there to have their wedding portrait taken, as well. They seemed so in love, and it was quite darling to see them trying to secretly hold hands while they thought no one was looking. I’ll admit, though, it made me feel a little envious—this distance between you and I is a true torment, some days, and never is it more apparent than when I have to watch other young couples._

_I miss you, Jacob. I know we didn’t see each other every day, even while I lived in Crawley, but to have gone nearly a year without seeing you, despite being so close… it’s worse than Portugal, isn’t it? Do you have that feeling, too?_

_I’m sorry, I digress—I don’t mean to cast such a sombre mood._

_After our photo, my parents insisted we go down to the shops. There is an absolutely wonderful dressmaker on Old Bond Street, just a little north of Piccadilly. I have no use for dresses or ladies’ finery these days, but I still love to look at what the fashion of the day is. Maybe one day, I’ll see a use for such things again._

_They also took me along to Swan and Edgar on Piccadilly Circus. They sell some lovely prêt-à-porter dresses and men’s clothes, among other things. I think I should like to take you there, at least once._

_Afterwards, they took Henry and I out for a birthday supper at Brown’s, where they’d taken out a suite. Henry and I share a birthday—I don’t remember if I’d mentioned that before? Anyway, the public dining room there is quite lavish, and my parents chose an eight course meal for us—I didn’t think I would make it through to dessert! They also have a lovely à la carte menu, and I would very much like to go there with you for a meal at least once._

_Speaking of birthdays, I had already got you a gift for your birthday elsewhere, though it didn’t arrive in time for me to send with the card. However, while I was at Swan and Edgar, I found something that I thought would be of some use to you, particularly in our line of work (once your father stops pretending you’re not ready, at least)._

_If you haven't opened your gifts yet, then I’d ask that you do so now, as I speak to them further on the next pages, and I’d hate to ruin the surprise._

Jacob snickered a little as he stood to collect the box from the floor, setting it on the bed. He glanced again at the small envelope, and picked it up as well, setting it on his bedside table. He brushed aside the tissue paper to reveal two more smaller boxes, and chose the larger of the two first, cracking open the lid and letting out a sound of delight at the contents.

He lifted the silk top hat out, turning it about briefly to admire the handiwork. In the inseam, a hand sewn label read in fine script _Gibus_. His brows raised for a moment, and he depressed the lid of the hat until it was flattened in his hands. He smiled broadly as he flipped it around, and popped it back open.

“How delightful,” he murmured, setting the hat on his head. He stood from his mattress to find the small mirror, and checked his appearance.

“Maybe a little silly without the proper trappings,” he commented. He doffed the hat and carefully set it on his desk. Sitting on the bed again, he pulled out the much smaller box this time. Lifting the lid, he took a moment to pause. Set on a bed of plush satin was a pocket watch, and matching chain.

The cover of the watch was a lustrous sterling silver, the image of an ornate corvid skull carved into it. He popped the cover open, looking at the watch face only briefly before clapping it shut. He admired the handiwork of the carved image once more, then set it in his lap as he took up Ellie’s letter again.

_Hopefully you’ll be pleased to add a Gibus hat to your collection. I hope you’re still 7 ⅛ as I remember, or else I’ll be terribly embarrassed to have sent you a wrong size. I should apologise that I tested the collapsibility of the hat myself—I was curious, and wanted to see the mechanism work in my own hands. The shop attendant showed us how it worked on a sample, but it’s not quite the same thing, is it?_

_At any rate, I do hope you’ll enjoy and make use of it._

_The watch was to be your birthday gift this year, but the watchmaker had an accident some weeks before the work was due, and couldn’t complete it in time. I still collected when they were ready, about a week ago, but hadn’t the chance to send it to you._

_I commissioned one for each of you—be sure to have Evie show you hers, as well. I’m quite pleased with Mister Müller’s work, and I hope you are as well. We spent some days discussing the design, and he seemed intrigued by my motifs. The mechanism of the watch is gold, so it should last you quite some time._

_I’m not certain I can call the photograph a gift, but it is meant as one. I hope it wasn’t too presumptuous to send you such a thing?_

_I hope you’ll keep it, and think of me fondly in your moments of quiet solitude, as I do of you._

Jacob’s brow furrowed as he paused, swishing through the paper in the box, looking for the named item. He sat back after a moment, perplexed, until the smaller envelope on the bed drew his attention.

Grabbing it up, he carefully tugged the sleeve open, turning it over in his hand. The tiny photograph dropped into his palm, and he held his breath for a moment.

Though it was a small portrait, she carried herself with impeccable grace, and her countenance bore a sweet smile. An ache spread out in his chest, and he blinked back the sudden sting of tears.

He huffed as he wiped feebly at his eyes with the heel of his palm, fingers curling around the photograph. “Damn it,” he hissed. Shaking his head to try and clear his thoughts, he put his focus back on her letter.

_I miss you, darling, most ardently. I keep trying to avoid the subject in my letters, because it brings up a most unpleasant feeling. I’ve left it go too long, and now I feel I’m nearly overwhelmed._

_I miss the sound of your voice, and the colour of your eyes, and the way your nose wrinkles when you laugh. I miss the way my hand fit into yours just so, and the weight of you leaning on my shoulder when we would spend afternoons along Broadfield Brook. I miss the way you would tell me a story, with such delight in your eyes. I miss going to the coffee shops along Brighton Road for tea and drinking chocolate and sweets._

_I miss how you would always try to sneak a hand to the small of my back when you thought no one was looking. I miss the way your breath tickled my ear when you would whisper naughty secrets to me, and how your hands acquainted themselves with my body when we were alone. I miss the way you kissed me, and the noises you would make under my touch, and how you tried so hard to keep quiet._

_Perhaps it’s impolite to speak that way, but I hope you don’t think me crass—I’m only speaking my truth._

_I miss you, darling. I miss your presence, I miss your support, I miss your affections, and I long to stand at your side again._

_Do you miss me in the same ways?_

_I hope that if you do, this damnable distance that exists between us should only do so for a short while longer. I hope that if you do, you’ll tell me a little about it in your next letter._

_I shall close this correspondence now, before I grow too much more melancholy—I’m sure you can already see all of the smudged ink from my tears, and I don’t wish to depress your mood._

_Be well, Jacob. Please take care of yourself. With any luck, your father will pull his head from his arse, and we’ll be together in London soon._

_I love you, Jacob Frye. Please don’t forget that._

_Forever yours,_

_Eleanor Blair_

Jacob put the pages down on the bed, and held his breath for a moment, trying to hold back his tears. When he let out the breath he held, he buried his face in his hands to weep. His mind flew into a string of expletives and shouting as he cursed at his father for holding him back, and at himself for not being ready.

When he had collected himself after some long minutes, he picked up the watch and photograph to pop the cover open, tucking the tiny photo of Ellie inside.

“What were you thinking there, love, with that sweet smile of yours? Surely not the naughty things you wrote to me in your letter,” he remarked teasingly. The shilling around his neck felt heavy all of a sudden, and he leaned forward on his knees. Holding the watch in his hands like a treasure, he stared longingly at her photograph for a long time. He recalled the words from her letter, the sound of her voice echoing through his mind.

_We’ll be together in London soon._ Jacob closed his eyes for a moment and sighed deeply, snapping the cover closed.

“We will, sweetheart,” he murmured, tucking it into his waistcoat pocket. “I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, please leave me a comment to let me know! It makes my day every time, and helps motivate me to continue writing! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡


	8. Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An arrival and a reunion.

A knock on the doorframe of the open shop door drew Ellie’s attention from the ledger before her. A young Indian girl, not more than ten years old, was stood there clutching a thick envelope.

“Oh, Satya. Come in, darling,” she called, standing to round out from behind the counter. Satya scurried forward, offering the envelope up to Ellie.

“A delivery from Mister Wynert. He said it was urgent,” she said. Ellie nodded as she took the envelope and set it on the counter behind her.

“Thank you,” she said. “Did he say anything else?”

Satya shook her head. “No, miss, just that,” she replied, rocking on her heels. Ellie nodded as she reached into her trousers pocket, then pressed a sixpence into Satya’s palm.

“Stay out of trouble, now,” she said, smiling as she nudged the young girl’s shoulder. Satya smiled in kind as she nodded, closing her fist around the coin.

“Yes, miss. Thank you!” She replied, scurrying out of the shop. Ellie smiled fondly as she watched her go, then turned towards the envelope.

She lay a few of the pages out along the counter to review the contents. _Manifests for shipments sent to the London Docks for Starrick & Co… What are we up to this time, Ned?_ She wondered, flipping through them. Her focus was interrupted by a rapt knock on the wooden frame, and she lifted her head to turn.

“Did you forget something, Satya— _oh! Evie!_ ” She cried, grabbing the counter behind her with a shocked gasp.

“Is something the matter, Ellie?” Evie teased, a broad smile on her face. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” As Evie planted her hands firmly on her hips, Jacob’s expression became pensive as he regarded the shorter woman.

“What are you doing here?” Ellie huffed, her heart thrumming in her chest.

“We’ve come to help,” Evie replied. Ellie’s brows rose as she clasped her hands together, looking between them.

“Did the Council finally give you leave to come?”

“We’ve come to help,” Jacob repeated. “Is that not enough?”

Ellie’s expression fell, but she couldn’t allay her smile. “I see. That explains your unannounced arrival, then,” she murmured. After a beat, she met Evie’s gaze again.

“George wrote to both Henry and I when your father passed. I’m sorry for you both. I wish there was more I could have done for you,” Ellie said, wringing her hands.

“We received your letters,” Evie assured her. “There was little else you could have done, darling. Your words were enough.”

Ellie nodded, and a beat passed as the two of them regarded each other. Evie spread her arms out with a smile, and Ellie mirrored it, bounding across the space between them. Meeting in the middle, Evie caught the shorter girl as she threw her arms around Evie’s neck. They both laughed as Evie spun them around, and Ellie pinched at the taller girl’s cheeks with a giggle.

“It’s so good to see you,” she said.

Evie gave her a squeeze and tucked her into another embrace. “Oh, I’ve missed you, darling,” she replied. After a moment, she took a step back, stroking Ellie’s hair with a fond smile. “You’re still so small. What happened?”

Ellie shrugged. “Perhaps it’s something in the water,” she joked, and they both laughed.

“Have you received any news from the Council?” Jacob’s voice interrupted their reverie. Evie scowled at her brother, but Ellie nodded.

“If you could call it news,” she replied, rolling her eyes a little. “I was informed by them that due to the passing of my patron, I was no longer ‘under obligation’ to remain in London. I was also told that I was free to remain here or return to Crawley at my discretion. I believe the Council’s message was a very subtle way of them informing me that with your father’s passing, London is to remain without official aid from Crawley, indefinitely.”

“Oh,” Jacob remarked, not without some disdain. “I suppose we should just catch a train back home, then?”

Ellie narrowed her eyes. “Don’t patronize me,” she snapped. “Whether the Council would deign to send us further aid is irrelevant now—you’re both here, and your being here will be of great benefit. But you also know that your father was the only hard link we had between London and the Council, and despite my personal feelings on the matter, the Council’s decisions and actions hold weight in the Brotherhood abroad. Don’t pretend not to understand that.”

A tense silence followed, and after a moment, Evie placed a hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “Have faith, Ellie. We will free London from the Templars,” she insisted. Jacob crossed his arms as he leaned against the door frame.

“Yes, she made the same promise to Greenie only an hour ago.” He muttered, his expression sour. It didn’t go unnoticed by either of the women as Evie turned over her shoulder to glower at him again.

“You’ve met with Henry already?” Ellie asked. When they both nodded, she frowned. “He’s not with you?”

“No,” Evie began. “He was showing us around the borough, but he was recognised by some gang members—Kaylock’s men, I believe. We parted ways to create a distraction for him to get away, and he told us he’d meet us back at his shop. I would have thought he’d be back by now.”

Ellie forced a tight smile. “Henry is clever, I’m sure he’ll—”

“Ah, good, you’re already here,” Henry’s voice came from the doorway as he entered his shop, brushing shoulders with Jacob as he passed by. “Did you give them the slip?”

Jacob’s expression relaxed as he smirked. “Oh, we gave them more than that,” he said as he followed after Henry, who had stepped behind the counter at the rear of the shop.

Ellie nudged Jacob with her hip as she passed him, and the two of them made eyes at each other briefly before Jacob reluctantly turned his attention on Henry again. Her expression grew pensive as she pushed the shop door closed and latched the bolt. Pressing a hand to her chest for a moment to quiet the fluttering thrum of her heartbeat, she swallowed around the lump that had formed in her throat.

_Two years of waiting for the Council, and in the end, you just show up on Henry’s doorstep like you’re here for afternoon tea…_ She muffled a snort as she shook her head and turned back to the group, rejoining the conversation as Jacob gripped Evie’s shoulder.

“I see what you’re saying Evie—we need the Rooks!”

“You are not—”

“The Rooks?” Ellie interjected. “What’s that?”

Jacob spread his hands. “ _My_ gang, since Evie’s not interested,” he replied.

Ellie raised a brow at hm as she leaned on the counter between them. “Your _gang_? You’ve hardly been in London more than an hour or two and you’ve already started a gang?”

Jacob made a noncommittal gesture. “Well, not exactly.”

Ellie pursed her lips as she narrowed her eyes, and he seemed to wilt under her gaze. “The Clinkers, then?”

Evie groaned, even as a childish grin spread across Jacob’s face. “That’s my girl,” he said, clapping Ellie’s shoulder.

“Please don’t encourage him, Ellie,” Evie seethed.

Ellie hummed as her brow furrowed. “What’s your plan?” she asked, hopping up onto the counter. Evie huffed, her eyes rolling skyward, and Henry pursed his lips as he glanced at her.

“If we take over Starrick’s gangs, we cripple his control,” Jacob put in. “Bring them onto our side, and remove any dissent—simple.”

“Simple! Oh, certainly, darling. And what of his ties to the merchants? Industry? The gentry and parliament?” Ellie replied, looking at him expectantly.

Evie nodded in agreement. “Yes, that’s exactly what I was just saying,” she added. “Starrick has ties to every branch of society—we need to match him.”

“So we begin with the people,” Jacob insisted. Evie visibly bristled, while Ellie rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

Henry leaned forward, raising his hand to try and ease the tension. “Regardless of our course, we will need the police to turn a blind eye to our activities. Ellie and I have curried favour with Sergeant Abberline, which we may be able to leverage to that end,” he put in.

Ellie nodded. “Mister Abberline is very _quid pro quo_ , so it is wise to keep that in mind,” she commented, glancing between them. “Beyond that, however, I think Clara’s urchins would be of great use to us as well, should we pursue this course.”

“Urchins?” Jacob asked doubtfully.

“Indeed,” Ellie replied. “Children make for excellent spies, and Clara’s have been instrumental in helping us so far. I’m certain if you can prove your mettle to her, she’ll be more than willing to lend her aid.”

Jacob leaned towards Ellie, a boyish smile on his face. “So, then, about my Rooks… think you can handle it?”

“What a question!” She scoffed. “I’ve been in London two years, and I’ve handled everything this city has thrown at me, so far.”

Jacob cocked a brow. “If that’s the case, I’m surprised you haven’t done more,” he needled. She snatched his hat with a smirk.

“Well, I’m afraid we didn’t have such a brilliant mind as yours in the city before now, Jacob,” she said, setting it on her own head. “It must be the hat? Ah yes, I can feel myself becoming cleverer already.”

“Yes, I’m afraid it is just the hat,” he said with a sage nod. “Shall I leave it to you, then?” He held his straight face for only a moment before they both began to laugh. She doffed the hat to set it back on his head.

“You haven’t changed at all, I see. Though you are taller,” she noted, flicking the brim.

He smirked. “Am I? It seems to me that you’re just very small, Ellie.”

She made a playful jab at his arm. “I may be small, but I bet I could still lift you overhead.”

“I’m not keen to test the theory,” he murmured. There was a brief pause and his expression softened as he looked at her. As quickly as it came, it vanished, and was replaced by his devilish grin. “Now then, would you like to help me cause some trouble?”

“I rather think you’ll need me to help keep you _out_ of it, darling,” Ellie said, smiling as she hopped off the counter. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to a few of the Clinkers, and we’ll see about getting them shined up for you,” she added, pulling him towards the door.

“Ellie. Jacob!” Evie called after them.

Ellie waved her off. “We’ll be back soon, Evie,” she said, throwing her overcoat on in a flourish. “Henry will have a wealth of things you can help with—speak with her, won’t you, Henry? Ta!” With a final wave, Ellie and Jacob vanished out the door.

Henry sighed, his expression fond and exasperated in equal measure. “She’s headstrong, that one.”

Evie laughed dryly. “She always was,” she agreed, shaking her head. She glanced at Henry before motioning to the papers before him.

“Now then, tell me about these other contacts…”

Jacob followed after Ellie as she darted up the side of a building. Once he was topside with her, she began pointing out across the rooftops, talking about where in the borough to find the remnants of the Clinkers. He stood near her while she spoke, but wasn’t listening with any intent. The shock of seeing her again so suddenly had finally worn off, and now his mind raced to keep up.

“Over there, it’s Daniel and Mary. We exchange information with them often, and I believe Daniel would be a good place to start for bringing the Clinkers up under your banner.” Ellie’s voice cut through the loud din of his thoughts, and he leveled her with a look that she didn’t see, focused as she was.

_How can you talk shop at a time like this? Didn’t you miss me at all?_ She pointed at a building some dozens of yards away, continuing her speech. Jacob sighed, catching her gently by the chin to turn her face towards him.

“Jacob?” Caught off guard, Ellie flustered under his gaze. He smiled as he stroked her cheek, thumbing over her lower lip.

“I missed you, sweetheart,” he said. A beat passed as she regarded him, a dam within her slowly weakening as her brow furrowed.

The sound of a sob left her body as she threw her arms around his neck. Jacob responded in kind, tucking into the crook of her shoulder and squeezing her so hard she could barely breathe.

The silence between them was broken only by the muffled sound of her weeping. When she finally took a step back from him, her eyes still wet, she looked at him with such fondness that his chest ached. He drew his knuckles down her cheek, cupping her face in his palm, and she closed her eyes. Letting out a deep sigh, she leaned into his touch, then turned her face into his hand to press a kiss to his palm.

His cheeks flushed as she turned her gaze back towards him, and she only looked at him for a long moment.

“I missed you, too, Jacob,” she said, finally. The breathless, honest sound of her voice made his heart swell, and he leaned forward, touching his forehead against hers.

The kiss they shared was soft, and not entirely unexpected, but her quiet sound of delight still made a subtle warmth pool in his belly. He slowly shifted his grip to wrap his arms around her again, and she sighed against his mouth as she reached up to put her arms around his neck once more.

“I can’t believe you,” she whispered when they were finally forced to pause and catch their breath. “I can’t believe you, and I can’t believe you’re finally here. I waited so long…”

Jacob huffed a laugh and kissed her again. Ellie sobbed out a laugh as she returned the gesture.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips. Her breath hitched, and she giggled with breathless delight.

“As I love you, Jacob Frye.”

He cradled her face in his hands again as she looked at him in a daze. Jacob’s chest ached with longing and his stomach twisted into knots. Wrapping his arms around her tightly, he crushed her into his chest and pressed his face into the crook of her neck.

When he was satisfied, Jacob stepped back to regard her in silence for the briefest of moments, then smiled so fondly that she flustered.

“Look at you,” he whispered, dipping down to kiss her again. She pushed up on her toes to meet him, and when he paused, he leaned his forehead against hers. “Has it really been two years?” He mumbled absently.

Ellie laughed as she gave him a squeeze. “A little more than,” she said as she took a step back. She held his face in her hands and stroked her thumbs over the sharp ridges of his cheekbones. “You’re quite a bit taller now, and your face is a little less soft. But I can see you haven’t changed, otherwise,” she murmured fondly. “You’re still you.”

Jacob laughed as gave her a firm squeeze. “Am I?” He asked, leaning back only far enough to look at her.

She smiled as she nodded. “Yes, I think so. Do you disagree?”

Jacob leaned down to kiss her again, urgent and needful as he pressed her into the chimney wall behind them. “No,” he murmured.

Ellie’s giggles quickly gave way to hitched sighs as his kisses traveled over her jaw and the curve of her throat. She bit her lip to stifle a quiet moan, tipping her head away from him. His soft kisses turned into bites and nibbles as his hands roamed up her sides and over her chest.

“Ellie…” he whispered her name against her skin like a needful prayer. She whimpered in delight, but pushed against his shoulders gently.

“Patience, love,” she murmured. “There will be plenty of time for that sort of business later. For now, let’s see to the Clinkers, and—”

“For God’s sake, Ellie…” Jacob rolled his eyes as he tipped his head back with an exasperated groan. “I don’t care about the damn Clinkers or the Rooks, right now. There will be time enough for that. I haven’t seen you in two years.”

“I know,” she snapped. The unexpectedly sharp tone of her voice made him pause. She looked like she might argue with him for a moment, but when his expression softened, she only sighed. There was a long moment of silence between them, and then she pursed her lips.

“I’d nearly forgotten how disarmingly handsome you are.”

Jacob laughed, taking her face in his hands to lean down and kiss her once more.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” He muttered fondly. Ellie giggled as she pressed a flurry of shallow kisses against his mouth. She leaned her forehead against his, her fingers stroking along his temple and back through his hair.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” she insisted. Jacob snorted as he kissed her again, making a soft noise of agreement. When they paused again, Ellie looked up at him with hopeful curiosity.

“Have you sorted lodgings for yourselves?” She asked. Jacob looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head.

“I don’t think we’d planned that far ahead, really.”

Ellie nodded as she glanced away. “There are rooms to let just down the lane from Henry’s shop…” Heat flooded her cheeks as she turned her gaze back to him. “We could… we could let a room, you and I, if you’d like to spend the night together,” she mumbled. Jacob’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but his expression quickly changed into a devilish one.

“Oh? Are you inviting me to bed with you, Miss Blair? That’s terribly naughty,” he teased her. Ellie’s lips curled into a demure smile as she put her arms about his neck and nuzzled his cheek.

“You make me that way,” she purred.

Jacob’s breath hitched, and he cleared his throat, his bravado suddenly faltering. She looked at him as she took a slow step back, her hand pressed against his chest as her fingers flexed. He thumbed at her chin with a soft smile.

“Is it really a question?” He leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss against her forehead. “I’d like nothing more than to spend the night with you.”

She shivered, taking hold of his forearm for a brief moment before she looked up at him. “The Clinkers, then?”

Jacob sighed, fond and exasperated in equal measure as he nodded. “The Clinkers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, please leave me a comment to let me know! It makes my day every time, and helps motivate me to continue writing! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡


	9. Yearning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. Jacob and Ellie make up for some lost time.

Ellie leaned against the door of the let room, jiggling the key around in the lock for a few seconds before they heard the telltale _click_ of the bolt sliding out of place. She looked up at Jacob with a wry smile as she pushed the door open on groaning hinges.

“A fine establishment,” Jacob remarked somewhat sarcastically.

Ellie chuckled as she worked open the buttons of her overcoat, hanging it on the rack next to the door. “Indeed, the finest in the borough. Or at the very least, the cheapest,” she replied.

Jacob sighed as he shook his head, shrugging his overcoat off. “For someone who grew up in such luxury, you certainly seem comfortable rolling around in the dirt,” he needled.

She laughed as she set her satchel down on the floor next to the bed. “We make do with what’s available, that’s all. Besides…” she murmured, stalking towards him. “Having you here makes it a touch easier to bear.”

Jacob smiled a little as he leaned down to catch her lips in a soft kiss.

Ellie reached up to cup his cheek, her thumb stroking over the ridge of his cheekbone. “How are you feeling, love? You’ve had quite the eventful day,” she murmured.

Jacob’s smile broadened as he left a few more kisses against her mouth, putting his arms around her middle to give her a hard squeeze. “I’m with you, in London—what could be better?” He replied, nuzzling her cheek.

Ellie smiled as she put her arms around his neck, sharing soft kisses with him until they paused and she leaned her forehead against his. “And are you enjoying London so far?” She asked.

“A pub on every corner, ample opportunity to fight Templars, and my favourite girl, all at my disposal? Again, I ask—what could be better?” He crooned, grabbing at her hips as he walked her back to the bed.

She snorted out a laugh as she reached for the buttons on his shirt and waistcoat. “Your favourite girl, hm?” She purred.

Jacob hummed in agreement as he nodded, his smirk turning into a devilish grin as he shrugged off his shirts. “By far,” he replied. Pushing her back, he leaned down to leave nibbling kisses on her lips. “Though I will say that she’s wearing entirely too much, right now,” he teased.

Ellie gave a genuine laugh as she tipped her head back. When she turned her gaze up on him again, his breath caught in his throat.

“Well, then… why don’t you rectify that?”

“That’s terribly naughty of you, Miss Blair,” Jacob teased, fingers working at her buttons.

“Is that so, Mister Frye?” She quipped.

Jacob hummed as he tugged her shirts off, shoving her down onto her back again. “It is,” he insisted. “I am rather fond of your naughty side, though.”

They regarded each other in silence for a moment while Ellie’s fingers drew down the curve of his jaw and the line of his throat. As her gaze drifted down, she thumbed over the shilling around his neck.

“You’re still wearing it,” she murmured fondly.

Jacob’s expression softened as he leaned down to kiss her. “Of course,” he whispered. “I always want you with me.”

Ellie flustered, putting her arms around his shoulders to draw him closer. “And now, here we are…”

“Finally…” he breathed out, pressing soft kisses against her cheek. He put his arms around her, tugging her into a snug embrace as he pressed a kiss against her brow. “Oh, I missed you,” he murmured, nuzzling her forehead.

She smiled as she gave him a squeeze. “I missed you, too, Jacob,” she whispered, leaving soft kisses along his cheek and temple.

His fingers drew up her belly, curling around the ribbon of her stay. “May I?” He asked with a cheeky smirk.

Ellie laughed as she rolled her eyes. “I think you’d better.”

Jacob chuckled as he plucked at the string, loosening the knot until he could tug the fabric off her body. His fingers slowly traced patterns along her belly and ribs, and she trembled under his touch. Thumbing over the scar on her torso, now a few years faded, he glanced up to meet her gaze.

“You’re so beautiful…”

“Flatterer,” she muttered fondly, cupping his cheek. He turned his face into her hand to kiss her palm, and she thumbed over his lips.

“Will you kiss me, darling?”

His expression became a little wicked as he hummed, taking her hands and slowly leaning over her to pin them above her head. “And where would you like to be kissed, love?”

Ellie threw her head back and laughed as she wriggled one hand free of his grip. She tapped on her lower lip with a coy smile.

Jacob pouted. “How boring,” he muttered as he leaned in to kiss her. “You’re no fun.”

“Oh? And where would you like to kiss me?”

He hummed, a hand dipping between them to cup her mound through her trousers. Ellie let out a soft cry of surprise, and her body shuddered.

She giggled after a moment, then coaxed him down to kiss him again. “Then put your hands on me, Jacob,” she whispered.

Jacob let out a sound of agreement, kissing her again to stifle the sound of his moan as he drew his hands up over her belly, fondling the curve of her breasts. Her body arched up into his touch, and her hands traveled along his torso. His fingers eagerly teased and plucked at the buds of her nipples until they were firm under his touch.

His name slipped out of her between shaky moans, and Jacob let out a low growl, the sound of her voice sending pleasure rippling through him. He sat back, and the soft pout on her face made him chuckle as he drew his hands down her belly, plucking at the strings and buttons of her trousers.

“May I?” He asked once more. She nodded, biting her lip with a coy smile. Jacob pulled open her trousers first, tugging them down a little to get at her drawers. He smoothed his hands over her belly, and leaned down to leave a kiss at her navel. She giggled, playing her fingers through his hair as he carried on leaving nuzzling kisses across the expanse of her skin.

“You’re so soft,” he whispered in hushed awe.

“I hope you aren’t,” she murmured back. He looked up at her in surprise to see her smile, now a little wicked. His own expression became impish as he sat back. Taking one of her hands, he pressed it up against the firm line of his cock, still confined in his trousers. She bit her lip to stifle a soft moan as her fingers curled around the shape of him. He hummed as he took her hand away, pressing it back into the mattress.

“Satisfied?” He huffed.

She giggled as she reached up to catch him under the chin, drawing him down into a kiss. “For now,” she whispered against his mouth. He grinned once more as he released her hand, and she lay still beneath him. As he moved his kisses across her cheek and down to tickle across the graceful curve of her collarbones, she tipped her head back with a sigh.

He smiled against her skin. “You always were sensitive here,” he murmured.

Ellie let out a shaky giggle. “You know all my weak spots, Mister Frye,” she whispered. He hummed as he continued downward, his hands and mouth drawing over her breasts. His kisses became open-mouthed and wet as he drew his tongue and lips over her nipples.

She shivered beneath him, watching as he drew his fingers down her belly, plucking at the strings and buttons of her drawers again. Once they were loosened off, he tugged them down her legs and tossed them aside with her trousers. She looked a little flustered, but didn’t resist when he pressed on her thighs to part them.

He smiled fondly as his hands slid up the insides of her thighs, brushing the pads of his fingers over the crease of her groin. She giggled, and he sighed as he leaned down to press soft, warm kisses against her belly, just above the coarse hair between her legs.

As he parted her folds, she let out a quiet huff. Licking the pad of his thumb, he turned his gaze up on her as he drew it up over the pearl of her arousal. The blissful sound she made sent a jolt of pleasure up his spine, and he bit his lip to stifle a soft moan of his own.

She moved against his touch, a soft whimper of encouragement from her enough to spur him on. He put on more pressure as he rubbed and circled the bud of her clit, and the sounds she wailed and moaned out sent heat skittering across his nerves.

“Such a gorgeous thing, you are,” he murmured in awed appreciation. She giggled, the sound quickly fading into a whimper, and she tapped her bottom lip with a delicate finger. He leaned in to kiss her, his hand remaining between her legs.

His kisses were interrupted by the feeling of her hand palming over his cock through his trousers again, and he grabbed her hand to pin it beside her head. She let out a little whimper of delight, and he huffed out an exasperated laugh.

He kissed her again, and when they finally paused to catch their breath, he loosened his grip on her wrists and nuzzled against her cheek. “Let me taste you, sweetheart…” he murmured.

Ellie’s breath hitched, and she giggled. “That’s quite the mouth you have on you, Mister Frye,” she purred. “Will you tell such interesting tales between my legs, I wonder?”

“God damn you!” Jacob snorted out a laugh as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. She put her arms around his shoulders, nuzzling his throat as she giggled along with him.

He sighed as he leaned back to kiss her again. “You’re absolutely intolerable, Ellie Blair, and I love you.”

Ellie smiled as she let him kiss her once more. He drew his soft, biting kisses down her throat and chest and belly. Her hands followed him, resting on his shoulders, then curling up into his hair. He drew his fingers through the coarse hair between her legs, and down her crease, making her tremble with a low moan.

She shifted to prop herself up on her elbows, watching him with eager affection as she bit her lip. He leaned into her, letting his tongue drag along the length of her folds. The salacious wail of pleasure she made as she drew in a pitched gasp sent shockwaves of pleasure up his spine, spreading out across his skin. Her thighs parted further around him, and her hand gripped at the back of his hair. He drew his tongue and lips up along the crease, then finally over the bud of her clit. As he laved his tongue over it in slow, broad strokes, her head tipped back with another groan.

He closed his eyes, focusing on the warmth of her body, the sound of her pleasure, and the taste of her on his tongue. A low moan slipped out against her wet flesh, the sound lewd and visceral. Her hips moved against him, eager and stuttering, and he wrapped an arm around her hips to keep her still.

“You’re divine,” he mumbled absently, his voice muffled by his actions. Ellie giggled, then whimpered out a low moan. Jacob felt heat flush down to his shoulders, and he focused his attention on the flushed nub of her clit.

She wailed louder with each stroke. “Yes, there—like that, love,” she whined. He went on until she let out a low groan, and he closed his lips around her, giving a gentle suckle. She shrieked out a curse as her fingers curled into his scalp, pressing him closer. Jacob let out a low groan of his own, eyes flitting up to hers again.

Her expression was dark and half-lidded as she watched him, and her mouth hung open with low, shallow pants. She only nodded at him to keep going, and so he pressed on, redoubling his efforts.

She let out a shout of pleasure, and he felt a rush of wet heat into his mouth as her hips began to twitch wildly. His grip on her tightened, and he buried in against her with feverish intent, licking and suckling and teasing her through her release. She fell back against the mattress, panting loudly as she let him carry on. He only began to slow when he felt the pressure of her hands against his shoulders, and heard her soft whimper of protest.

When he finally stopped, he sat back with a pleased sigh. She lay beneath him, trembling and shaking in her afterglow. He regarded her for a long moment with an achingly fond expression as he stroked her hair back from her sweat-dappled forehead.

“My girl…” he mumbled absently. “You’re so beautiful.”

She giggled and turned away from him, pressing her face into the sheets. He drew his hands up her belly, admiring the spots of her freckles.

When she eventually did turn back to him, she wore a coy expression, biting her lip. “Shall I return the favour?” She cooed.

He felt heat rush onto his cheeks again, and his smile became wicked for just a moment. Taking her hand, he drew it up to his face and pressed a kiss against her palm. “Not with your mouth, sweetheart,” he whispered. She looked a little disappointed, but he caught her chin in his fingers and leaned down to kiss her. Her tongue chased his as he rolled over onto his side, and she followed him. They kissed over and over for some long minutes, until Jacob felt her hand palming over his cock again. His hips moved into her touch as he tried to stifle a low moan.

She smiled again as she nibbled at his lip. “Like this, instead? I want to touch you, Jacob,” she murmured, looking shy all of a sudden. “Please, love, I’ve missed you…”

He nodded, and she smiled, giving him another soft kiss that slowly drew along his cheek and chin, and down the column of his throat. She worked at the buttons and strings of his trousers, then his drawers. As she pushed them down his thighs enough to expose him, Jacob swallowed as she drew her tongue along her hand to wet her palm. A moment later, he felt the warmth of her fingers curling around him, and he tilted his head down to watch. Her other hand pressed against his chest, her fingers spreading out to knead into him. He sighed out a curse as she began with slow, teasing strokes, his hips stuttering into her touch as he tried and failed to bite back the low groan that escaped him.

“Did you miss this, love?” She cooed, teasing his lips with feather-soft kisses. He nodded and took her face in his hands, pressing her into a deep kiss. She hummed in delight as she thumbed over his chin with her free hand, her expression soft and fond as she nuzzled his cheek.

As her tempo increased, Jacob found it increasingly difficult to stay quiet, groaning and trembling under her touch. “Please,” he whimpered, squeezing frantically at her side. She hushed him, drawing her free hand down his belly to cup his sac in her palm. He let out a stuttering groan, whispering her name in a frantic daze.

“Easy, love,” she whispered. “Don’t chase it.”

He nodded feebly, his cheeks flushed a deep, rosy colour as he huffed out a groan. She smiled as she tipped his face up to kiss him, tender but deep, her tongue chasing his. As she brushed her thumb over his slit, he let out an undignified groan.

“Go on, darling,” she cooed. “Come for me.” Her strokes hard and fast, Jacob let out a whimpering moan as his brow furrowed, fingers twitching against her side.

The coil in his belly—wound up so tight that it ached—finally snapped. His release surged out of him in a rush, and he heard the soft sound of her gasp as the heat of it struck the skin of her belly, and coated her fingers. Her strokes continued drawing the bliss out of him, and he twitched and shuddered until he could stand it no longer, grabbing at her wrist with a stricken groan.

She slowed, then uncurled her fingers. His chest heaved with effort as he looked at her, his pupils blown wide. The heat of his flush reached down to his shoulders, and she leaned forward to kiss him with tender affection.

He whimpered, trying to kiss her back in his daze. After a time, she slowly rolled onto her back, drawing her hand up to examine the sticky substance on her fingers. Seeing the way he watched her from the corner of her eye, she grinned a little wickedly and drew her fingers to her lips. Drawing her tongue along her digits in long, deliberate strokes, as if she were savouring him, she let out a delighted hum.

He cupped her cheek as heat flooded his face again. “Dirty puzzle,” he muttered fondly.

She smiled as she turned her face into his hand to kiss his palm. “Is it unbecoming?” She purred.

Jacob huffed out a laugh. “Quite the opposite,” he sighed, rolling onto his back to push his trousers and drawers the rest of the way off.

He slid off the bed, stumbling a little as he moved to the cabinet where the wash basin sat, and pulled a washcloth out of the drawer. Ellie propped herself up on her elbows once more, letting Jacob tidy them both up. He tossed the soiled rag into a basket near the door, then flopped back onto the straw-tick next to her. Tugging her in against his chest, he let out a fond, rumbling sigh as he nuzzled into her crown.

She pressed a kiss against his throat. “Is there more?” She whispered, squirming a little in his embrace.

He snorted as he pressed a few more kisses into her hair. “Greedy little thing,” he mumbled fondly. “We’ve all the time in the world, now, love. Save some for later. Just let me hold you for a little while, hm?”

Ellie felt a pleasant warmth bloom in her chest, and she smiled. Tugging the sheets and blankets up around them, she let out a delighted giggle as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck.

“Then let me wake up in your arms tomorrow, Jacob,” she whispered.

“You will, sweetheart,” he whispered back, tipping her face up to press a gentle kiss against her forehead. “I promise, you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, please leave me a comment to let me know! It makes my day every time, and helps motivate me to continue writing! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡


	10. Good Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. Lazy mornings, and more lost time.

Jacob slowly blinked his eyes open, feeling a chill settle over his back. Glancing towards the window, the low, grey light of early sunrise trickled in through tattered curtains, and his brow furrowed. _Where…?_

The sound of a deep breath and the feeling of a body shifting next to him sent him into a panic. Questions about where he was, and who was next to him in bed raced through his mind as he tried to collect his thoughts.

The memory of soft skin, gentle touches, and a familiar voice washed over him— _London. I’m in London._

He let out a deep breath as he pressed his face into the pillow with a low chuckle. Sitting up, he saw Ellie lying supine next to him with a serene sleeping face, her chest slowly rising and falling with her breaths. He bit his lip as a longing ache welled up in his chest, warmth pooling in his belly.

Glancing at the scar on her torso, he brushed his thumb over it gently. She stirred briefly, and her breath deepened as she made a soft sound in her throat. _Does it still bother you, love?_ He wondered, his brow furrowing.

Leaning down to nuzzle into her throat, he left a soft peck against her skin. She let out a low noise, a bit like a moan, and he chuckled as her words from the night before tickled at the back of his neck; _is there more?_ He hummed as he pressed another kiss against her skin, this one warm and open-mouthed

She stirred again and drew in a deep breath as he felt her shift, the fingers of one hand sliding up along the nape of his neck. Turning her face towards him, her eyes peeked open as she tapped on her bottom lip. He lifted his face to meet her, taking her lips in a deep, sumptuous kiss. He leaned back just enough to look at her, and she giggled again, lifting her arms up over her head as she arched up off the mattress in a full stretch, complete with a yawn.

“Good morning, darling,” she groaned, tapping on her lower lip once more as she looked up at him. He grinned at the invitation, leaning down to claim her mouth in another heated kiss.

His hands slid back up her sides to palm over the plush mounds of her breasts. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he purred in response, biting at her lower lip as he teased his thumbs over her pert nipples. She huffed as she tipped her head into the pillow, arching into his touch.

“Mister Frye is quite eager this morning, I see,” she sighed, voice still thick with sleep. “Where was he last night?”

Jacob grunted as he pinned her hands to the mattress, leaning into her throat to give her a soft bite. She giggled in delight, wriggling her hands free to put them around his neck.

“Did you sleep well?” She asked, playing her fingers through his hair. He paused to look at her, drinking in her half-asleep expression and the fluffy dishevelment of her hair. Drawing his knuckles down her cheek, he smiled as he leaned down to kiss her again.

“The best I have in years,” he replied finally, trailing his kisses down over her jaw and the column of her throat.

Ellie let out a breathy laugh, grazing the edges of her nails up along his sides. “Oh? Should I say that you’re welcome, then?” She teased.

Jacob chuckled as he nibbled at the juncture of her collarbones. “It is thanks to you, after all,” he murmured.

She let out a squeak, squirming as her cheeks flushed with heat. “Jacob…”

“Hush, love,” he whispered, silencing her with soft kisses. “I just want you, right now. I’ve missed you terribly…”

Ellie paused, taking his face in her hands to regard him for a long moment. “I’ve missed you, too, Jacob,” she whispered, drawing him back down to put her arms around his shoulders. Jacob hummed as he wrapped his arms around her slender frame.

“I love you.”

They both startled at the sound of the other saying it, and began to laugh, their foreheads leaned together. Hardly a beat passed before their laughter was drowned by their kisses.

One of Jacob’s hands slowly drifted down her belly, fingers teasing along the tuft of hair. Ellie sighed against his mouth as she parted her thighs, and Jacob hummed at the invitation, his hand slipping down over her mound.

She whimpered as his fingers brushed along the crease of her groin, then pressed in further, teasing against the warm slick of her entrance.

“You’re already so wet for me, love,” he cooed.

Ellie tipped her head back with a soft laugh that turned into a trembling moan. “I always am,” she whispered.

Jacob bit back a moan as he tucked in closer to her, putting a little more pressure behind his fingers. “You’re not supposed to agree,” he muttered, nibbling at the curve of her throat.

Ellie huffed out a giggle as her hips moved along with the rhythmic strokes of his fingers. “Where’s the fun in lying? You turn so much redder when I tell the truth,” she purred. Jacob snorted as he gave her another soft bite, his cock nudging up against her thigh.

She hummed as she reached down to curl her fingers around him. “I see you’re eager for me, as well,” she murmured, giving him a gentle stroke.

Jacob’s fingers shifted to rub over the hard nub of her clit more directly, and she let out a hitched gasp as her hips stuttered against his hand. As he moved to sit up a little, Ellie opened her mouth to tease him, but was cut off by the loud moan that escaped her as he sank a finger into her.

“Oh, Jacob,” she whimpered, the fingers of her free hand flexing against his chest. He leaned closer to take her mouth in a deep kiss, his hips thrusting shallowly into her slow strokes, heat skittering out from his core in waves.

“You’re so easy,” he teased her, pressing the heel of his palm up against her clit.

Ellie let out a shaky laugh as her hips shifted against him, eager for more pressure. “Only for you,” she muttered breathlessly.

As Jacob teased a second finger, Ellie whimpered in delight and bit her lip to stifle a moan, glancing down to watch as he pressed the second digit in. She let out a low groan as her head tipped back, her walls fluttering around him as her hips rocked against his hand.

“Jacob, please,” she whispered, her strokes on him stuttering. He hummed as his fingers curled forward, rubbing up against the tender spot inside her. Ellie tipped her head back, hips twitching as she tugged him down into another kiss. He slowed his movements, carefully shifting until his fingers slid out of her.

She let out a whimper of disappointment. “Oh no, love, don’t stop— _oh!_ ” The sound of her protest quickly devolved into a soft cry of delight as he moved his fingers over the swollen bud of her clit.

He sat up more fully, settling between her legs as he pushed her thighs wider. Gripping himself with one hand, he held her hip with the other, rubbing the thick length of his cock along her slick folds, nudging the head against her entrance.

“Go on, sweetheart. Tell me what you want,” he purred, voice low and husky. Ellie’s breath hitched as she bit her lip, watching him for a long moment.

Licking her lips, she sighed. “I don’t _want_ anything, Jacob. I _need_ you,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Put your cock inside me…”

Jacob growled to stifle the groan that threatened to escape him as he pushed past her labia, slowly sinking into her. Ellie’s fingers curled into the sheets beneath her, and Jacob’s expression softened instantly, brow furrowing as his breath hitched. Ellie reached up to take his face in her hands, pulling him down into a luxuriant kiss.

“Ellie… sweetheart…” His breath stuttered against her lips. Ellie sighed as she kissed him again, moving her hips in time with his thrusts as she put her arms around his shoulders.

“I’m so glad you’re here with me, Jacob,” she mumbled, eyes closed as she touched her forehead against his. “I missed you so much…” Her breath trembled, and he felt his cheeks flush with heat.

“I missed you, too, sweetheart,” he mumbled, pushing her thighs wider as his tempo began to increase. “Every day, I thought of you, and wished I could be here with you…”

“And now, here you are,” she murmured, brushing her thumb over the shape of his lips. Jacob kissed her to silence the soft whimper that threatened to escape him, pinning her beneath him.

Ellie’s fingers dug into his flesh as she tucked into his shoulder. “Oh, yes, love,” she whispered. “Fuck me, Jacob. Take me. Make me yours.”

“You already are mine,” he gritted out against the curve of her throat. “Just as I’m yours…”

Ellie whimpered as her head tipped back into the pillow, her hips rising up to meet each hard thrust. Heat pooled out from her core, skittering over her nerves in waves. Jacob pressed one hand into the mattress to steady himself, the other slipping between their bodies to rub fast and hard over the swollen bud of her clit.

She let out a loud wail as her breath hitched, and Jacob’s pace stuttered briefly as her walls flexed around him. He sat back as Ellie pushed up onto her elbows, gripping the sheets beneath her.

“Oh, Jacob,” she whimpered. “You feel so good, love. Please, don’t stop.”

Jacob bit down on his lip as he leaned back a little, slowly pulling out of her. Ellie let out a whine of disappointment, and Jacob couldn’t even laugh, flustered as he was. He leaned forward, rutting up along her slick folds as his hands massaged along her trembling thighs.

She squirmed impatiently, pushing up off her back. Placing a hand in the centre of his chest, she shoved him backwards, swiftly crawling atop him.

Jacob chuckled as he tipped his head back with a huff. “Feeling impatient, are we?” He teased.

Ellie looked at him pointedly, settling down to sit atop his thighs as she curled her fingers around him, stroking slowly. “I hardly think being separated for two years and coming _once_ qualifies as impatient, Mister Frye,” she shot back.

Jacob squirmed, his cock twitching in her loose grip. He opened his mouth to respond, and she pressed a finger against his lips to stop him.

“I know you want it to last, Jacob,” she murmured. “I want to relish being with you again, too, but I’m not willing to be patient right now. We waited two years for this… can’t we enjoy it?”

Jacob swallowed, putting his hands on her hips and dragging her forward until his cock was flush against her belly. “Go on, then…” he mumbled.

Her lips curled into a demure smile as she raised up onto her knees, lining him up with her entrance. He watched as Ellie’s expression became one of pure bliss as she sank down onto him with a trembling moan. His brow furrowed as his fingers dug into her hips where he held her, and his breath stuttered in his chest.

Leaning back a little, she braced herself on his thighs as she moved in a slow, rhythmic pattern. Jacob shifted to match her movements, sliding his hands up her belly to palm over her breasts. Ellie’s moans were soft and pitched, and she finally leaned forward again, opening her eyes to find his gaze as she pressed her hands into his shoulders.

He watched her fondly, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair away from her face, and she smiled as she took his hand, pressing soft kisses against his palm. She moved her hips against his in a slow, circular grinding motion, making them both groan in delight.

Jacob hummed as he shifted his hands down her arms, twining their fingers together. Ellie bit her lip, using their shared grip as leverage to fuck herself down on him.

“Did you miss having my cock inside you, love?” He teased her, though his voice trembled.

She giggled as she nodded and licked her lips. “We only had each other like this once before… but it wasn’t enough, was it?” She murmured.

Jacob’s expression softened as his brow furrowed, and he shook his head. As he lifted his hips to meet her eager thrusts, he felt her thighs grow tense as a loud moan tumbled out of her. He wriggled one hand free of her, and licked at the pad of his thumb before he pressed it up against her clit, rubbing over the hard nub.

Ellie whined as her hips moved faster, her free hand bracing against his thigh as she fucked herself onto him. “Yes, love, that’s it,” she whispered, voice trembling. “Make me come, Jacob, please…”

Jacob huffed as he put more pressure behind his touch, circles growing tighter. He felt the frenetic twitching of her walls around him as she keened and cried, her grip on his hand tightening.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he purred.

Her body went rigid, quaking and trembling as her orgasm surged out from her core. Her nails dug into his hand where she held him, her chest heaving as her body trembled, trying to catch her breath. He only paused circling over her clit when she grabbed at his wrist, pushing it away. He hummed in delight as he lay beneath her, huffing a little at the way her body flexed around his length. She finally let out a luxuriant sigh, leaning over to rest her forehead against his shoulder.

Jacob’s free hand drew along the length of her spine as he smirked. “I always did think you’d look lovely riding rantipole,” he teased her, nuzzling into the crook of her neck to give her a soft kiss. “I’m glad to see I was right.”

Ellie snorted out a laugh. “You’re a beast,” she muttered.

Jacob laughed good-naturedly as he patted the curve of her arse, lifting her hips off him. “Come now, love,” he purred, sitting up to lay her back down into the mattress. “It’s not my fault you haven’t the stamina to keep up with me.”

Ellie made a face at him, putting her legs around his waist to drag him forward as her hand closed around his cock again. His breath hitched and he grew tense as she gave him a few hard strokes.

“I don’t believe we’re done just yet,” she whispered, nudging the tip against her slick entrance. Jacob hummed as he took himself out of her grip, pressing his hips forward to sink into her once more. Ellie’s breath hitched and she moaned loudly, her thighs shaking as she gripped the sheets.

“Oh, yes, love,” she whimpered, brow furrowing as she looked up at him. He began slowly, easing her back into a rhythm as he groped and fondled at the plush mounds of her breasts.

“Will you come again for me, sweetheart?” He teased, nibbling at her earlobe.

Ellie squirmed and giggled as she put her arms around him. “That depends entirely on how skilled you are, Mister Frye,” she barbed, nipping at his chin. Jacob snorted as he leaned in to kiss her, his pace increasing. Hooking one knee over his elbow, he pushed her leg up towards her shoulder.

Ellie wailed as stars burst behind her eyes, his cock nudging against the tender spot inside her. “Oh, love…” she whispered, her voice shaking. “ _Please_ , Jacob, fuck me _…_ ”

Her breaths began to grow shallow and muted as Jacob watched her melt back into the mattress. Her eyes wet and pupils blown wide, she looked up at him, and he cooed as he leaned down to kiss her softly.

“Easy little thing you are,” he chided her, pushing his thumb into her mouth. He drew it back after a moment, pressing up between her legs to rub hard and fast over the aching bud of her clit. She cried as she threw her head back into the sheets, her chest heaving.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he murmured, drawing his kisses over her brow and the shape of her cheekbone. “Come again, for me. Let me feel you.”

The low tone of his voice sent a shudder of pleasure down her spine, and her scalp began to tingle. The sensation came over her in a wave, heat skittering over her skin as her nerves were set alight. She let out a loud wail, her body seizing as she clenched tightly around him.

Jacob laced their fingers up as he pinned her hands down into the sheets, fucking her through her orgasm as he watched her come undone beneath him. Her walls squeezed and flexed around him, drawing the pleasure of his own impending release to the forefront of his thoughts. The pressure of it bore down on him in a dizzying crescendo, and at the last moment, he slid out of her.

She let out a tiny gasp at the heat of his release striking her belly and the curve of her breasts. He leaned into the line of her throat, leaving sloppy kisses against her skin as he groaned softly, stroking himself through his end.

Ellie put her arms around his shoulders, coaxing him up into a soft, sensual kiss that made her toes curl as she put her legs around his waist. Jacob huffed against her mouth as he finally caught his breath, leaning back to look at her on display before him.

Her smile became a little impish as she stretched the length of her body, tucking her hands up behind her head as she watched him with a pleased expression. The smug curl of her lips made Jacob huff out a laugh, leaning down to kiss her again. Her own giggles mixed with his as her fingers ran through the tousled strands of his dark hair. Finally, he sat back once more, watching her with a kind of aching fondness that made her fluster. She squirmed a little, but managed to give him another cheeky grin.

“Not a terrible way to wake up,” she murmured. Jacob snorted out a laugh as he tipped his head back.

“Not at all,” he agreed, flashing her a smile. She sighed as she tucked her hands up behind her hair again, tipping her head back to regard him thoughtfully.

“I could stand to wake up to that a few more times,” she sighed, arching her back again as she stretched. Jacob chuckled as he stretched his arms up, standing off the bed and heading over to the wash basin cupboard.

“I could do with it every morning, myself,” he teased, coming back to the bed with a dampened cloth in hand. Ellie remained quiet while Jacob cleaned them both up, chewing her lips as she watched him.

“I recall… we had a similar conversation before,” she murmured, scratching at her cheek as she glanced sidelong. Jacob smiled fondly as he leaned down to kiss her, over and over until she was breathless and flustered.

“I remember the same conversation, and my feelings haven’t changed at all,” he added, putting his arms around her middle to tug her up into his lap. She regarded him for a long moment, and the softness of his expression made her chest ache. She took his face in her hands and left a soft kiss on his brow, trailing down to find his lips. They stayed that way for some long minutes, exchanging soft kisses and caresses and whispered affection.

Finally, she leaned back to regard him, her expression aching and fond as she brushed a few strands of hair back from his face. “Would you really want me until we’re old and grey, Mister Frye?” She whispered, drawing her thumb over the scar in his brow.

Jacob’s smile was soft, and he turned into her hand to leave a kiss on her palm. “In this life, and the next,” he murmured, taking her chin to draw her back in for another flurry of soft kisses. “One life with you isn’t enough.”

Ellie giggled as she leaned her weight into him. “You’re a gift, Jacob Frye.”

Jacob grinned as he tossed her back into the mattress. “As are you, Ellie Blair,” he replied, nuzzling into her throat. He settled his weight on top of her and nestled his cheek against her chest, closing his eyes to listen to the soft thrum of her heartbeat. Her fingers caressed through his dark hair, thumb brushing over his earlobe as she left a kiss on his crown.

“Should we get up?” She asked. Jacob peeked his eye open, reaching over to the nightstand for his pocket watch. In the cover was the well-worn photo of Ellie, and he felt an unpleasant tightness bloom out in his chest.

Without checking the time, he clapped the watch shut and wrapped his arms around her a little tighter. “No,” he mumbled, burying his face in against the curve of her throat. “Not yet, sweetheart. Just let me hold you for a little while longer.”

He felt her body relax in his arms as she settled against the pillows, nestling into the dark hair of his crown. “Until we’re old and grey, love?” She teased, the smile evident in her voice. Jacob chuckled as he nuzzled her skin, leaving a soft kiss there.

“Until we’re old and grey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, please leave me a comment to let me know! It makes my day every time, and helps motivate me to continue writing! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡


	11. Soirée

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ball, a con, and some casual racism. Just a typical Thursday.

Ellie adjusted the collar of Henry’s tunic, and patted down the sash, then turned to Jacob, who stiffened as she smoothed down his lapels. As she began brushing his jacket, he mumbled something beneath his breath.

Ellie pinched him. “Don’t mumble, darling.”

“Sorry,” he replied, though his expression soured a little. “I was just hoping to see you in a gown again…”

Ellie laughed as she finished tidying his jacket. “The Maharajah forwarded yours and Evie’s names to replace his and the Maharani’s on the guest list, Jacob. I don’t think I could pass as Evie’s brother, or your sister—and nor would I want to,” she put in. “Besides, as a servant, I have a little more freedom of movement than either of you—I can slip away easier, and search for the documents.”

Henry checked his appearance in the mirror by the door, then looked to Ellie. “Shall I bring the carriage around?”

Ellie stifled her giggle, amused by the formal tone he’d adopted. “Yes, I think so. Evie should be done soon—she was just putting on the last of her jewelry when I left her.”

“I’m here,” Evie’s voice called from the doorway of the spare room. Ellie hurried to help her friend shuffle her hoop through the doorway, then checked the dark green skirts for any damage.

Satisfied that the gown was in good shape, Ellie smiled sweetly as she took her hands. “You look lovely, darling.”

Evie’s cheeks flushed and she smiled appreciatively. “Thank you, Ellie,” she mumbled, giving her hands a squeeze. “That’s your mother’s suit, isn’t it? It looks very handsome.”

Ellie nodded as she helped Evie slip on her shawl coat. “Yes. Mum sent it to me via post,” she replied. “Lucky, too. I doubt I’d have been able to find a plain Anarkali suit somewhere else in London.”

“Not at a reasonable price, anyway,” Evie put in.

Ellie nodded. “Indeed. Now then, you both look like you’re ready. Let’s be off, shall we?”

The twins both nodded, and Ellie let Jacob go ahead before shuffling in front of Evie. Taking the elder girl’s hands, she carefully guided her down the narrow staircase towards the entrance to Henry’s apartments, then out into the street where Henry waited with the carriage. After the three of them shuffled inside, Ellie knocked on the wall, and the carriage lurched into motion.

Evie pulled out her pocket watch and scowled. “We’re already late,” she muttered.

“If we’re late, it’s fashionably so,” Ellie replied. “No one ever shows up to these things ‘on time’, anyway.”

Evie’s frown deepened briefly, but then she nodded. “I suppose you would know better than either of us.”

“Not exceptionally, but I do know that even when my parents threw balls at our estate house, it was rare to have anyone arrive before 7 o’clock for a half six invitation,” Ellie replied. “You included.”

Evie giggled, and silence settled over the carriage as she stared wistfully at her pocket watch, flipping the cover open and shut several times. She admired the delicate feather motif for a moment, then tucked it away in her clutch.

As they crossed into Marylebone, and the houses and estates they passed began to grow ever more grand, Jacob slipped his arm around Ellie’s shoulders. “Will you save a dance for me, sweetheart?”

“Goodness, no!” She laughed. “You would cause an uproar if you danced with me, Jacob. Any sort of transgression of that nature would get us thrown out.”

Jacob frowned and gave her a squeeze. “Are we really that concerned with propriety? After all, we are going there to _steal_ from them.”

Ellie chuckled as she took his hand. “Yes, darling. There’s a number of reasons _why_ we should all maintain a level of decorum, but in particular since you and Evie are attending as guests on behalf of His Highness. If we caused him to lose face by making a scandal or upsetting the hosts by our actions, it could be disastrous,” she said, stroking her thumb over the back of his palm. “The point of us stealing from the Blackburns is that they don’t _know_ about it. Dancing with me would be a rather public affair, and breach far too many social moors—it’s bad enough that I’m a servant, but an Indian servant? _Scandal_.”

“That’s not true,” Jacob muttered.

Ellie pinched his cheek as she smiled gratefully. “I know that’s not how you feel, darling, but higher society is not so kind. Don’t worry—there will be other balls, and other chances for us to dance, and I’ll always save a dance for you,” she said, nudging his chin. “For tonight, I just need you both to rub elbows with the house enough to discover where I might find what we’re looking for.”

Evie nodded. “His Highness mentioned that the Lady Blackburn lacks a great deal of discretion, so she may be our best bet for finding out where the baron is storing the chest.”

Ellie nodded in kind. “Agreed. I’ll stay close to you for most of the night, Evie, and listen in to your conversations. Jacob can hobnob with whomever of the hosts we’re not engaged of, and try to find out information as well.”

“Are you certain you won’t need any help once you go off?” Jacob mumbled.

Ellie rolled her eyes a little as she smiled. “You needn’t worry about me. It’s just a nobleman’s party—I’d hardly call it the belly of the beast.”

“I would,” Evie muttered, fidgeting with her gloves. Jacob and Ellie both laughed, and Evie scowled. “I’m glad you both find my discomfort so entertaining…”

“I don’t mean to be callous, Evie,” Ellie apologised. “I know how you detest balls, but try to focus on our objective—we need to find this chest, and retrieve whatever documents inside may be of use to us.”

Evie nodded sullenly, and silence settled over them again. As the carriage trundled to a stop, Ellie exchanged a look with the twins. She reached for the carriage door handle, only for it to be pulled open from outside.

An elderly man appeared in the doorway. “Good evening, Mister Frye. Miss Frye. Please, allow me,” he said, his voice jarringly austere as he offered his hand towards Evie. Evie let the elderly fellow guide her out, with Jacob following a moment later, and finally Ellie joined them on the washed cobblestone drive.

The man looked down his nose at Ellie briefly before turning his gaze back to the twins. “Welcome to the Blackburn estate. If you will please follow me, Lord and Lady Blackburn wish to be properly introduced to their newest acquaintances.”

Evie and Jacob exchanged confused glances, then nodded in bewilderment. Ellie quickly waved to Henry, who urged the horses into motion again, trundling down the drive to find somewhere to park.

“Please don’t be alarmed,” the elderly man added. “I am the Blackburns’ chamberlain—you may call me Fletcher. Your driver passed me your invitations, and I’m sure you know that the Maharajah sent us word yesterday afternoon.”

Ellie stifled a titter as she watched Evie’s shoulders relax. Inside the manor’s front foyer, the twins passed their coats and other trappings to the staff, then followed Fletcher further in.

Finally, he paused in front of a portly older man with a bushy moustache, stood next to a middle-aged woman who was more than slightly inebriated. “My Lord and Lady Blackburn, may I present Mister Jacob Frye and Miss Evie Frye, as per the Maharajah’s notice.”

Lord Blackburn turned towards them, and cleared his throat as he stuck his hand out to Jacob. “A pleasure, my good man. A shame Mister Singh couldn’t be here, but fortunate for you. Do enjoy the evening,” he said.

Turning to Evie, he took her offered hand and kissed the back of her gloved palm. “And a pleasure as well, my dear. Singh has said not nearly enough to extol your charms.”

Lady Blackburn elbowed her husband affectionately. “For goodness sake, Artie…” she sighed good-naturedly, then turned her gaze on the twins. Her eyes lingered appraisingly on each of them, but for just a moment too long before she smiled.

“It’s wonderful to meet the both of you,” she began. “Duleep was very complimentary in his writings, so I should hope you may prove him right.” She stepped forward, eyes narrowing just slightly at the sight of Ellie.

“And who is this you’ve brought with you?” She asked, looking down her nose. Ellie did her best to look nervous, and quickly curtsied as her eyes darted between the twins, before she stared at the ground, as if she were being chastised.

“This is my lady’s maid, Ellie,” Evie quickly put in, trying to squeeze herself between the baroness and her friend.

Lady Blackburn’s nose wrinkled just a little, and she tried to smile, though it was a little simpering. “My dears, we have more than enough staff to attend to your needs—”

“Of course, madam, we would never attempt to imply otherwise. Ellie has been with us since we were both very young.” Evie lowered her voice as she leaned closer. “She’s mute, and very simple, but she gets anxious if left alone for too long. I promise you’ll hardly notice she’s here at all.”

Lady Blackburn’s expression softened briefly, and she looked sympathetic. “Oh, I see. How unfortunate that you should have to endure such a burden, but how gracious of you to take such good care of her,” she added, shooting another distasteful glance towards Ellie. As Evie once more moved to place herself between them, the baroness grabbed Ellie’s chin and tipped her face up, examining her features with a hum.

“A shame that she’s simple-headed, but her people are better suited to subservience, anyway—and better a simple mute than a clever chatterbox,” she commented with a slight sneer. “I do hope the wretched thing appreciates the kindness you’ve bestowed upon her.”

Evie’s smile was painfully tight as she finally managed to put herself firmly between Ellie and the baroness. “I’m certain she does, Lady Blackburn.”

Jacob forced a dashing smile as he reinserted himself into the conversation. “We thank you both for your gracious hospitality this evening, madam,” he put in, dragging the subject into less tense territory.

“Yes,” Evie added. “Thank you for your understanding on behalf of His Highness. It is greatly appreciated.”

Lady Blackburn turned to Jacob, and her expression relaxed as she smiled indulgently at him. Taking her offered hand, he touched his lips to the back of her palm as they briefly exchanged pleasantries.

The baroness hummed, then smoothed her skirts. “It is our pleasure to host you this evening, my dears. Now then,” she began. “We shall let Lord Blackburn return to his other guests, and I shall introduce you to a few acquaintances of mine. Come along, now.” She stopped and looked at Jacob expectantly, who quickly offered his arm to her. She took it, and led the three of them away. Evie shot Ellie a look of concern, but the petite girl only gave her a reassuring smile and a quick wink before following after them.

The grand hall was filled to the brim with people. Some gentlemen and ladies sat in fancy chairs along the edges, while others danced. Lady Blackburn approached a gaggle of young women stood off to the side of the dance floor. They all looked to be around the same age as the twins, and a giggle rippled through them just as Lady Blackburn inserted herself into their conversation.

“Good evening, Mrs. Spencer. I hope the evening has been to your liking?”

The woman who turned in response looked surprised, but curtsied respectfully. “Of course, Lady Blackburn. Everything is impeccable, as always,” she replied with a tight smile.

“Wonderful. If I may, I would like to introduce you to some new acquaintances of mine—this is Miss Evie Frye, and her brother, Jacob…”

Ellie let the bustling crowd drown out the bore of introductions, and did her best to remain hidden behind Evie’s voluminous skirts. Lady Blackburn quickly announced her departure, and proceeded to drag Jacob away. With Evie left to her own devices now, Ellie knew she would have to stay close by, and listen for any clues they might catch. It seemed the both of them understood they were going to have to rely on Jacob to press the hostess for more information, since it seemed highly unlikely that distant non-relations would know anything of value.

Ellie listened with some disinterest as the ladies subtly grilled Evie on her pedigree, and shot an apologetic glance at her back, all too familiar with the sort of underhanded comments she was receiving. Though Evie’s posture was tense, Ellie smiled at the fact that she carried herself with seemingly effortless grace and decorum, answering all of their questions—as evasively as possible, of course.

_That’s my girl_ , Ellie thought pridefully, barely disguising her snicker when Evie offered a backhanded compliment to Mrs. Spencer for being so brave to wear a hair ornament so long out of fashion. The rest of them seemed to take a liking to her gall, and erupted into a spate of cackling. The conversation seemed to calm down after that, and the discussions became much more amicable.

Ellie glanced up to the balcony where Lady Blackburn had dragged Jacob, and found them tucked further back towards the rear wall. Even from such a distance, she could tell Jacob’s posture was tense, while the Lady Blackburn was much more loose and open as she seemed to prattle on in an incredibly animated fashion. She was reminded of the expression that had flashed across Jacob’s face when the Lady had first dragged him away, and giggled quietly to herself— _that was a cry for help, if I’d ever seen one…_

On the balcony, Lady Blackburn offered another champagne flute to Jacob, and they clinked glasses again before she began sipping. On only his second drink, he’d lost count after the Lady’s third.

“Aren’t you going to keep drinking, darling?” She cooed, looking to his untouched glass.

Jacob forced a tight smile. “The night is still young, madam. I feel I should pace myself to avoid any untoward effects on my constitution,” he replied, putting on airs. It seemed to allay her suspicions, and she glanced down briefly before smiling lopsidedly.

“Most wise…” she purred, then closed some of the distance between them. “Now then, as I was just saying, my husband is quite the avid collector. Did you know that, Jacob?” Lady Blackburn slurred, taking a sip of her champagne.

Jacob feigned his interest. “Pray tell, what does Lord Blackburn collect, madam?”

“Oh, all _sorts_ of things. The profane and the occult, mystical and arcane, beautiful and mysterious…” she trailed off as she took another sip of champagne. “And some things that are better not spoken of in polite company.”

“I see,” Jacob cleared his throat, keen to avoid the latter subject. “Does Lord Blackburn have a gallery where he displays his polite collections?”

“Of a kind. My husband keeps the more polite items in his study. Many on open display, but others are more difficult to find…” she murmured, lips curling into a strangely wicked smile. “The less polite ones—”

“The study?” Jacob was eager to pursue that lead, already having an inkling of where the ‘less polite’ items might be located.

Lady Blackburn let out a drunken giggle as she curled her fingers around Jacob’s arm. “Indeed, on the third floor of the manor. My husband just recently procured an entire chest _filled_ with new curios and oddities. He’s yet to properly go through them—it only just arrived yesterday, but he spared no expense to get it from the competing bidder’s grasp,” she slurred.

“Oh? There was a competing bidder?” Though Jacob felt he had already gleaned enough information to be of use to Ellie, he decided to indulge the Lady a little more.

Lady Blackburn leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. “Why, none other than a vassal of Mister Crawford Starrick.” She threw her head back with a delighted cackle. “Crawford and my husband are not on the best of terms, and Lord Blackburn loves to take any opportunity to annoy him. This was only the latest insult, and I imagine he’s none too pleased.”

Jacob hummed as he scanned the crowd below them. “That is quite bold of Lord Blackburn.”

“Oh, yes, indeed, but that’s why I married him—the good baron has never been afraid of a _challenge_ …” Lady Blackburn let out a sound not unlike a purr as she leaned more heavily into Jacob. “Now then, Mister Frye… you seemed rather intrigued at the mention of my husband’s study. Would you like a tour?”

Understanding quite perfectly to what she was alluding, Jacob laughed good-naturedly. “Perhaps the next time I come to call, madam. I shouldn’t like to take advantage of your hospitality this evening, nor keep you from your more important guests,” he replied.

The smile he forced seemed dashing enough to allay any disappointment, and she threw her head back with another cackle. “Yes, my dear, _do_ come to call on us again during more reasonable hours, and I should be _happy_ to show you around…” She giggled as she took a long draw of her champagne. A servant came to stand nearby, and the Lady’s expression soured as the other woman sidled up next to her, leaning in to whisper something in her ear.

“Jacob, darling, I’m afraid you must excuse me—it seems I am being called upon by my other guests. Do come find me again later,” she purred, stroking his arm briefly before she stumbled off with the servant.

Jacob handed his untouched champagne flute to a passing attendant, and smoothed out his waistcoat. Trying to relax his shoulders, a shudder rippled through him before he headed towards the staircase. Casually scanning the crowd again, he managed to find Ellie, stood only a few feet from Evie, who was still socialising. _Right where we left you…_

Approaching under the guise of meeting his sister, he leaned in nigh imperceptibly as he passed by Ellie, their shoulders brushing. “In the study on the third floor.”

She waited until he was some paces away and heard him inserting himself into the conversation with his sister. With the immediate attention on Jacob, Ellie casually crossed towards a side door where she saw servants slipping in and out. Following after a group of staff hurrying into the scullery, she ducked into the kitchen and quickly found the servant staircase, making her way up to the third level.

Poking her head out into the dimly-lit hallway, she could see it was devoid of anyone but her. As her Sight took over her senses, she could see all the rooms nearby were empty, to which she let out a breath of relief. She stepped out into the hall, and carefully crept down the wide corridor, checking door knobs and handles as she went.

Each one she came across was, unsurprisingly, locked, but with no indication of which room might be the one she was after, she found herself a little bewildered. _I don’t have time to pick them all, for Christ’s sake…_ She sighed as she pressed herself to focus more intently, finding Lord Blackburn’s path. It led her to a nondescript door, no different than the others.

Crouching down, she pulled her lockpick out from her bodice. “Well… here’s hoping.”

Hearing the soft _click_ of the lock coming unhitched, she quickly stood and pressed into the room, closing the door softly behind her. As she turned inward, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief—it was dimly lit, but most certainly a study. A desk sat near the centre, and the walls were lined with cabinets and books.

She slipped into the room, beginning with the desk drawers—paper, inkwells and quills, a few discarded shillings, but nothing of interest. She pulled open the second drawer, and noticed a tiny latch at the bottom. She lifted the papers out and popped the mechanism. Swinging open, a drawstring pouch sat nestled in the hidden compartment. She picked it up, and shook the contents out into her hand—nine irregularly-shaped runic stones. Examining them with her Sight turned up nothing of interest, and the runes looked to be of Norse origin, so she tucked them back away, and continued her search. Finding no hidden panels, nor other items of interest in the desk, she turned towards the cabinets.

A soft click from the room’s door handle alerted her, and she froze. As the door slowly pushed open, she ducked down behind the desk, pressing on her senses to focus her Sight again— _who on earth…?_

Jolted, she stood back up. “Jacob!” She hissed, her expression twisting into a bewildered scowl. Jacob pressed a finger to his lips to silence her as he pressed the door shut behind him. “What are you doing here?” She demanded, keeping her voice low. “If the Blackburns notice you’re missing—”

“There are dozens of other guests to cajole and entertain, Ellie,” Jacob replied, rolling his eyes a little. “I hardly think they’ll miss me. Besides, I thought you could use the company.”

“Jacob, if we get caught—”

“How frequently do ‘respectable’ men fraternise unscrupulously with their servants, Miss Blair?” Jacob began, stalking towards her. Ellie’s face bloomed with heat as she squirmed beneath his gaze, though she still glowered at him.

“That’s not the point. If we’re both caught in here—”

“Then we’re caught,” Jacob interrupted her again, catching her chin to tip her face up. “At least this way, you’ve an alibi.”

Silence settled between them as Ellie seemed to debate his statement, until finally she let out a defeated sigh. “Well, you’re here now, so make yourself useful and help me find what we’re after,” she muttered.

Jacob snorted a quiet laugh as he leaned down to put a quick peck on her cheek. “I do love being useful,” he replied teasingly. She swatted at him, and he ducked away before turning towards the cabinet she had just been facing.

The minutes passed them in silence, but for the quiet shuffling of papers, and dull thuds as things were moved or set aside. She heard Jacob muttering under his breath, then a quiet _aha!_

“Ellie, come look at this,” he called to her, crouching down next to the corner of the floor rug. Lifting it away, he curled his fingers under a loose floorboard, and a loud _pop_ emitted before the trap door sprung open. Both of them froze, unnerved by how loud the sound had seemed against the silence.

They quickly glanced at each other, then pulled open the lid of the chest sat into the sunken hidey-hole. Flanking it, a number of other curious artifacts from India and beyond, though all were covered in a healthy layer of dust. Inside was a mess of papers, photos, and a few trinkets. As Ellie rifled through the sheets of parchment, Jacob lifted a thick envelope bound with twine, and slipped the contents out to shuffle through them.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Ellie lifted her gaze to the sheet in Jacob’s hand. “Oh!”

The photograph in his hand, and several others in the stack all appeared to be pornographic in nature. With her attention drawn, he leaned in close to her. “Should we have a look, sweetheart?” He teased.

She stared at him incredulously. “Jacob. We’re working.”

Jacob smirked a little. “Yes, well—”

“Put them back. For goodness sake, we came looking for information about precursor artifacts, not material for you to use to fetch mettle,” she muttered, waving him off.

Jacob curled his arm around her and leaned in to nip at the space behind her ear. “Oh, but have you ever seen anything quite like this?” He purred. He put the photograph in front of her—a woman wearing a harness about her hips, who appeared to be penetrating a man with a dildo attached to it.

Ellie snorted as her ears grew hot, and she squirmed away from him. “I can certainly say that I haven’t, but I’m sure you have,” she replied in a teasing tone, pinching his cheek affectionately. He seemed to debate something for a moment as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink, then nodded, albeit sheepishly.

“Oh…” She raised a brow as she caught his chin to turn him towards her. “And are you curious, darling?”

“Maybe a little…” he mumbled, his cheeks flushing darker as he turned away. She released her hold on him with a curious hum, but took the stack of photos, slipping them back in the envelope and tossing it back into the chest.

Silence hung between them as they dug through the rest of it, neither of them finding anything else of interest. Some personal letters, love poems, old trinkets, train schedules, and more photographs—thankfully, these subjects were clothed.

“This seems more like someone’s trove, rather than a wealth of knowledge about precursors. Are we certain this is the right chest?” Ellie put in, looking worried.

“Well, the other things in this compartment all seem to be covered in a healthy layer of dust, so either the chest is new, or Lord Blackburn keeps it well cleaned.”

Ellie nodded, setting the chest closed as her expression grew pensive. “How did you find this?”

“How do you think?” He replied, helping her push the trap door quietly back down. Ellie set the rug back into place as she stood, letting her Sight pass over the room.

“There must be something else—something we’re missing. Do you see any more hidden levers or switches?” She asked, not breaking her concentration. Jacob fell silent, and then huffed.

“No. Wait—”

“There,” Ellie interrupted, her focus arriving on it at the same time as him. In an open-face cabinet, behind a neat line of books, she could see a switch.

Reaching in, she pressed the panel, and the door popped open. Inside the hovel, a stack of books—all but one covered in a healthy layer of dust. Lifting the tome at the top of the pile, she turned its cover towards her, only to find an Assassin crest nestled on the front.

“Oh, hello…” she murmured, turning the book over.

Jacob shuffled in beside her. “What’s this?”

She turned about and showed him. “I don’t know if this is what we’re after or not, but I imagine it would be useful to us, either way.”

Jacob nodded. “Well done,” he murmured pridefully, pinching her side.

She swatted at him with a soft smile. “Now, then—shall we continue our search?”

Jacob shook his head. “I don’t know that we’ll find anything of greater use—the Lady Blackburn said her husband had just recently acquired the chest and its contents, and looking at everything else in this room that’s hidden, it’s all covered in dust too old to let me believe it’s of any value,” he replied. He glanced towards an ornate clock hung on the wall, then grimaced. “More than that, I think we’ve likely worn out our welcome up here. It’s been nearly a half hour, and Evie’s not the best at sustained gossip,” he put in. Ellie looked at the clock, and made a face of her own as she nodded pointedly, wrapping the book up in a piece of fabric and tucking it into her satchel.

They hurried about the study, righting everything to its natural state as best they could remember it before slinking towards the door. Jacob poked his head into the hallway, and on seeing it empty, motioned for Ellie to follow. She took his offered hand, sticking closely to him as they slipped out of the study, setting the door closed behind them.

As they rounded the corner towards the servant staircase, they came face to face with an elderly man—Fletcher, they both recognised. Ellie’s heart leapt into her throat, and the butler’s face changed from shock to confusion, and then to disdain.

“Good evening, Mister Frye… what brings you to the Blackburns’ upper floors?” He asked, his tone frighteningly even.

Jacob flustered as he cleared his throat, looking over his shoulder at Ellie, who squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Well… I suppose I must apologise for my unscrupulous behaviour,” he mumbled, looking properly mollified.

Fletcher tipped his head back, expression unnervingly neutral. “I see,” he replied, glancing towards Ellie, who quickly averted her gaze and acted chastised. Seeming satisfied, the elder man nodded.

“I understand, sir, but as chamberlain I must ask you to maintain a sense of decorum, and exercise your scruples in this home in which you find yourself a guest,” he began, staring critically at Jacob. “I shall forget this meeting happened, so long as you take your servant girl and return to the _planned_ activities post-haste, and do not make further efforts to seek _extracurricular_ ones…”

Jacob nodded, his ears turning red as he bowed respectfully. “Of course, sir. We shall see ourselves back downstairs, then…” he mumbled, rounding the older man who stayed stood in place. The pair of them beat a hasty retreat down the servant staircase, arriving in the kitchen and scurrying out before they were noticed by any staff. Finally, they stopped in the narrow hallway leading towards the grand hall where the rest of the guests were located, and looked at each other. The absurdity of the situation finally settled in, and they both burst out laughing, nervous energy skittering through them.

“Well, that was—”

“Ridiculous,” Ellie interjected, keeping her voice low. “Go and find Evie—we should be off right away. There’s no sense in staying. The more time we waste here, the more time we spend waiting to be discovered. I’ll go see that Henry brings the carriage ‘round.”

Jacob nodded, and they parted ways. As he arrived back in the Grand Hall, his senses were accosted by the level of activity. He managed to meander his way through the crowds, finding Evie stuck in a droning conversation with the Lady Blackburn, who appeared to be drunkenly flirting with _her_ now, as well. Jacob snickered beneath his breath, then caught his sister’s elbow to call for her attention.

“I am terribly sorry to interrupt, Lady Blackburn, but I fear my sister and I must depart post-haste. A pressing family matter has come to my attention, and I shouldn’t like to let it idle,” he put in.

Lady Blackburn narrowed her eyes briefly before she recognised him, and threw her arms wide. “Jacob, darling! Where have you been?” She crowed. “We’ve missed you at the festivities! You still owe me a dance, you know.” She stumbled in her step, and Jacob caught her before easing her down into a chair.

“With due respect, madam, I don’t think you’re in any state to be dancing, right now. Perhaps another time, if I may?” He offered, glancing towards Evie, who slowly began to move away from the crowd.

“Oh, perhaps,” she slurred, her expression surprisingly coquettish. “Very well, darling. See to your family matters, but do come to call on us again. Any time,” she insisted. Jacob nodded, then turned to Evie, offering his arm before hurrying them out into the foyer.

“Jacob? What’s going on?” Evie whispered to him as they stood waiting for the servants to retrieve their coats.

“Ellie’s gone to call the carriage ‘round, and we’re leaving,” he replied in hushed tone. Evie gave him a critical look as they shrugged their coats and gloves on, and Jacob gratefully took his cane sword back from the servant. Her brother didn’t offer any more explanation, but gave up his arm to aid her out the door and down the steps to the waiting carriage.

Ellie hopped out to help Evie trundle into the carriage seat, then waited for Jacob to pile in before curtsying to the doorman, and hopping in herself. With a rapt knock on the wall from Jacob, the carriage heaved into motion, and he and Ellie both breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“Now, then, since you wouldn’t tell me what’s going on inside, will you tell me now?” Evie demanded. Ellie quickly regaled their tale to the elder Frye twin, not neglecting the part where Jacob had been upstairs when he shouldn’t have, or the fact that they were caught leaving.

“I _told_ you not to go upstairs, Jacob!” The elder twin snapped, looking cross.

Jacob scowled. “It’s a good thing I did. What would Ellie have done if she’d been alone when he caught her?”

“I don’t know, but she’s smart enough that she could have thought of something,” Evie replied disdainfully.

“I’m sure she could have, but with me there, she had an excuse that placed no real blame on her. More than that, she was unarmed, and I—”

Ellie stuck out her left wrist with a soft _snikt_ as a small blade popped out of its sheath. “I never go anywhere unarmed, Jacob,” she interjected. Jacob and Evie both balked in surprise, and Ellie flexed her wrist to withdraw the blade. “But he’s right, Evie—what would I have done if I’d encountered the chamberlain alone? I was playing a mute this evening, so I couldn’t have explained myself without breaking that disguise. More than that, after your discussion with Lady Blackburn at the beginning of the night—”

“ _Speaking_ of Lady Blackburn—” Jacob interjected with a scowl.

Evie let out a growl. “Oh! What a absolutely _wretched_ woman! I was an inch away from strangling her,” she snarled.

Ellie let out a delighted cackle as she clapped her hands. “We’re fortunate you didn’t—it would have been a disaster. But you both did very well with maintaining the façade of wealthy landowners. You especially, Evie—I could see how tense you were when you put yourself between us.”

Evie’s expression screwed up as her brow furrowed. “I only did so well at maintaining my composure because you and I practiced what I was to say so many times beforehand. I don’t know that I could have done it, otherwise. I don’t know how _you_ did it…”

Ellie sighed as she deflated a little. “At any rate, back to the matter at hand—how would it have looked if I had been found on my own on the third floor of the Blackburn estate? It would have been a disaster when Fletcher caught me alone, only to drag me downstairs to you or Jacob for discipline. You may not like that he and I were caught as we were, but at the very least, Fletcher seemed sympathetic to Jacob’s pretend honesty, and promised to forget it happened. Better that he thinks Jacob was just after some horizontal refreshments with the simple servant girl than something more sinister.”

“As if that wouldn’t be sinister!” Evie snapped, then her nose wrinkled. “You weren’t, were you?”

Ellie looked offended “No!”

Jacob snorted out a laugh as he shook his head. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” he interjected again. “We got what we came for.”

Evie still frowned, but finally relented as she looked to Ellie. “What did you find?”

“Most of the documents in the chest were of no use—personal letters, love poems, and so on. Nothing I could see at a cursory glance worth lifting. We did recover what appears to be a journal or notebook of some kind that I think may be of use to us, though,” she said, revealing the book with the Assassin crest from her satchel.

Evie looked intrigued, and she gingerly took the tome, cracking it open to review its pages.

While his sister was distracted, Jacob leaned over into Ellie. “Shall you and I seek out some _extracurricular activities_ once we get back?” He purred in her ear. She reared back and punched his arm, giving him a stern look. Jacob rubbed at his arm, although his expression remained quite cheeky. Ellie’s expression was equally exasperated and fond as she took one of his hands, drawing it up to press teasing kisses against his fingertips with a subtle nod. Jacob flustered briefly, then cleared his throat as he laced his fingers up with hers, turning back towards his sister.

Evie glanced up as they settled down again. “There’s a wealth of information in here, Ellie—this is invaluable. I wish I could have seen the other contents in the chest, but this will do nicely for the time being,” she put in with a nod. “An excellent place to start.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, please leave me a comment to let me know! It makes my day every time, and helps motivate me to continue writing! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡


	12. Keeping Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob invites Ellie on a few errands, that aren’t really errands at all.

Ellie drew in a deep breath, eyes fluttering open as she lifted her arms to stretch. A soft grumble from behind her, and the feeling of being tugged back against something solid made her gasp.

“Oh! It seems a Rook has found his way into my bed,” she sighed, voice still thick with sleep. Jacob peeked an eye open and smiled as he hummed a laugh. His grip on her tightened as he buried his face into her shoulder.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he mumbled. Ellie giggled as she squirmed in his grip, turning over to face him. “Ah, there she is,” he sighed.

She put her arms around his neck as she nuzzled his cheek. “And how is my handsome Rook this morning?”

“Flattery already?” He purred.

“Who’s flattering?”

His cheeks flushed and he snorted, leaving soft kisses along the slope of her shoulder through the fabric of her nightgown.

Already half-asleep again, she hummed. “When did you come back last night?”

“Perhaps quarter after two, by my pocket watch,” he sighed, fingers drawing along her spine.

“What time is it now?”

He shrugged. “Does it matter?”

Ellie cradled his face in her hands as she kissed his crown. “No.”

“I thought not.” Jacob gave her a squeeze. “What are your plans today?”

She hummed thoughtfully as her fingers carded through his hair. “I don’t have anything in particular. Why?”

“I’ve a few errands to run,” he answered, leaning back to look at her. “Would you care to accompany me?” His smile was surprisingly sweet, and she leaned forward to leave a lingering kiss on his forehead.

“I’d love to.”

Jacob let out a sound not unlike a purr as he leaned into her throat again, giving her another squeeze. “Excellent,” he said, not bothering to hide his delight. “But there’s no rush, so let’s just enjoy each other’s company for a little while, first.”

Ellie giggled as she tucked in a little closer. “Gladly.”

* * *

Waking again some hours later, the light of late morning poured in through the tattered curtains of their let room. Exchanging quiet pleasantries before rolling out of bed, a comfortable silence remained between them while they dressed. Sharing the vanity mirror, they washed their faces and brushed their teeth. While Jacob combed pomade through his hair, Ellie worked a comb and brush through her thick tresses. Finishing well before her, he stood back to watch her work.

She finally saw him watching her in the mirror, slouched against the footboard of their shared bed. Turning over her shoulder, she raised a brow. “Is something the matter, darling?”

He shook his head with a wry smile. “Not at all. Just admiring the view,” he teased. Ellie snorted a laugh as she finished the long braid.

He crossed the space and stood over her as he drew his knuckles down her cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. His expression filled with fierce longing, and she felt herself wilting as he went on. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Jacob, please,” she mumbled, turning her face away to hide her embarrassment. “It’s far too early for flattery.”

He caught her chin to make her look up at him again, holding her gaze for a long minute. “I hardly think telling the truth is being flattering, Miss Blair.”

She squirmed and pushed her face into the curve of his shoulder. “Shut up,” she muttered. “You’re making me blush.”

Jacob hummed out a laugh as he put his arms around her and gave her a squeeze. “That’s a pastime I’m particularly fond of.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed…” she grumbled.

With another self-satisfied chuckle, he released his hold on her to stand back. “I think we can get a start to our day, then.”

Ellie nodded her agreement, and Jacob smiled as he tipped her face up to press teasing kisses over her cheeks and nose. She hummed in delight before her arms wound around his neck. His fingers coursing along her sides sent little jolts of pleasure skittering out over her nerves as he tickled along her ribs through the fabric of her clothes. Drawing his kisses over her jaw, then down over her throat, she barely managed to stifle a quivering moan as he nibbled and teased her.

“We’re not going to get very far if you keep that up,” Ellie muttered fondly. Jacob chortled as he pressed a last few fleeting kisses along her pulse before he stood back.

“I suppose we shouldn’t let all that time you spent primping go to waste,” Jacob teased. Ellie smiled as she swatted playfully at his shoulder, and he caught her hand to press a kiss against her fingers. “Let’s stop at the Pauper for a pint and some lunch before we head off. All of my errands are in the West End, but since we’re there, I’d like to spend a little time with you at St. James’ before we move on to more pressing matters.”

Ellie smiled broadly as she nodded. “That sounds delightful. It’s been ages since we had any time to ourselves, you and I…”

Jacob nodded in kind, leaving a quick peck on her nose before they crossed towards the door, bumping hips and poking at one another teasingly as they pulled on boots and gaiters and overcoats. Jacob offered his arm as they left the room, and Ellie gladly took it, leaning against him as they departed.

* * *

Ellie closed her eyes as she turned her face up towards the sun, basking in the warm rays of the early afternoon. Next to her, Jacob tossed a few more crumbs of bread to the ducks splashing about at the water’s edge. Extending her arms up over her head, she flopped back against the grass, stretching her limbs out with a luxuriant sigh. Jacob depressed his hat and tucked it away before he laid himself out next to her, hands tucked up behind his head.

“I miss the sun,” Ellie finally sighed, eyes still closed.

Jacob shifted onto his side to face her, leaning on his elbow. “Summer will be here soon, sweetheart.”

Ellie huffed a soft laugh as she squinted one eye open to look at him. “No, I mean… I miss the _sun_. Like in India. It’s been _years_ , but… I can still remember it. I remember the heat, and how comforting it was—even when it was sweltering. How wonderful it felt to play in the gardens—we used to harass the peacocks so terribly, and skip stones across the ponds or nap under the trees in the afternoons, when it was too hot to train…” her voice trailed off as her expression became wistful.

Jacob’s own expression fell a little, and he looked sad as he glanced out over the pond. “Will you go back?”

The sound of his voice seemed to startle Ellie, and she looked at him properly. “To India?” She looked perplexed, and he nodded. Her brow furrowed as she looked thoughtful. “Would you come with me?”

“Would you want me to?” His voice and expression were equally sullen, and Ellie reached up to guide him back until he met her eyes again.

“Very much so, darling,” she murmured, brushing a thumb over the full shape of his lips. They regarded each other for a long moment, and then Jacob closed the distance between them.

It felt _good_ to kiss her, and it seemed like it had been ages since he’d been able to. She wound her arms around his neck to pull him closer, and the soft sound of her moan sent a little buzz of pleasure to his belly—it seemed that she was enjoying it, too.

When they finally paused to catch their breath, Jacob didn’t move far, carrying on stealing soft kisses as he touched his forehead against hers. Her fingers were cool as they drifted over his cheek, and he looked to see her soft smile.

“I spent two years apart from you, Jacob. I wouldn’t just run off to India on a whim—not without you by my side,” she murmured.

Jacob chuckled as he put his arms around her middle, giving her a hard squeeze. “Good. I would be most cross if you did go without me, Miss Blair,” he teased. “For I would miss you then as I miss you now.”

Ellie laughed as she pulled him down into another spate of teasing kisses, hands cradling his face. “Have you been missing me, darling?”

He sighed as he turned into her touch, pressing a kiss against her palm. “Terribly…”

Her expression softened, and she brushed a thumb over his brow. “I suppose it’s been a while since we really had a moment for just you and I, hasn’t it…”

“Not since that night at the baron’s party,” Jacob replied, as if he’d been counting the days.

Ellie laughed. “I’d hardly call that a moment to ourselves, but I suppose that really was the last time we were properly alone. Maybe we should have taken better advantage of that.”

Jacob snorted as he gave her a quick kiss. “Well, I did _try_ ,” he teased. “But the lovely Miss Blair often puts the needs of the Brotherhood ahead of her own.”

Ellie squirmed in his hold—he’d struck a nerve with that. She sat up, and Jacob looked apologetic as he fretted. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean—”

Ellie pressed her fingers to his lips. “There’s no need to apologise, Jacob—you are right, after all. I’m not blind to that, either, and so I shall have to make it up to you, somehow. Oh, but here I am, at your disposal—how fortuitous.”

Jacob hummed in delight, closing the distance between them as he kissed her again. “And I intend to take full advantage of that, Miss Blair,” he purred.

“Oh?” Ellie raised a brow, biting her lip as she glanced around.

Jacob snorted out a laugh as he stood, pulling her up after him. “ _Later_ , Ellie,” he murmured, tugging her closer. “In private, if you don’t mind.”

Ellie feigned a pout as she leaned into him, and his cheeks flushed crimson at that. His mind was briefly flooded with the idea of taking her somewhere a little more secluded and—his thoughts were interrupted as she leaned up to kiss him.

Her expression became more neutral as she stood back, smoothing out his lapels. “I can hear some of the gentry complaining about our lack of discretion, Mister Frye. Shall we go elsewhere to continue our discussion?”

Jacob chuckled as he quickly brushed himself off, and she did the same. Taking his offered arm, Ellie let him lead her out of the park.

Perhaps a quarter of an hour passed, and they found themselves down a wide side street where a makeshift market had taken shape. Jacob was clearly in no hurry, but Ellie seemed to remember herself and looked up at him curiously.

“When shall we move on to your errands, darling? I shouldn’t like to keep you distracted _all_ day.”

Jacob paused in his step to catch her about the waist, taking first position. “In good time,” he answered, beginning a slow waltz. “Why don’t we stop at a coffee house, first? After that, I’d like to go strolling in St. Marylebone. I’ve heard the architecture there is quite stunning.”

Ellie followed his lead, though she frowned a little. “You know, Mister Frye, I’m beginning to think that you haven’t got any errands to run at all.”

Jacob’s brows rose up in surprise. “Why, Miss Blair, whatever could have given you that idea?”

She rolled her eyes, though she kept in time with his steps. “You know, Jacob, if you wanted to spend time with me today, you could have just asked.”

Jacob’s smile broadened into a grin. “But I did ask,” he replied, lifting her hand to spin her around. As he caught her again and resumed their dance, Ellie sighed, her expression as exasperated as it was fond.

“You’re impossible,” she huffed.

Jacob ceased their dance as he caught her chin in his fingers. “As are you. How fortunate for us both. Now, would you like to join me for some drinking chocolate, sweetheart?”

“In a moment,” she replied, regarding him as she grew stern. “I expect an apology for your fib, first.”

Jacob’s expression became cheeky as he smiled. “I’m terribly sorry for my duplicity, Miss Blair. I shall endeavour to be more direct with my requests in the future.” He was teasing, but her expression remained hard.

“I don’t accept your apology.”

Jacob’s brow furrowed, and he became visibly perplexed. “Then what shall I offer as proper recompense for your inconvenience?”

Ellie glanced aside thoughtfully, then caught his gaze again and tapped her lower lip once.

Jacob let out a low laugh as he shook his head, leaning down to press her into a sumptuous kiss that made her let out a sound of delight. He held her fast about the waist, carrying on until she was nearly breathless.

“Will that be sufficient, Miss Blair?” He purred, nuzzling her cheek. Ellie hummed her assent as she leaned up on her toes to kiss him again, fingers curling into his shoulder.

“Now then,” she murmured, leaning her forehead against his. “What was that you said about drinking chocolate?”

Jacob chuckled as he left a last peck on the corner of her mouth. “I’ll show you,” he purred, taking her hand to twine their fingers together. “Come on, sweetheart. To Piccadilly.”

* * *

“What about one like this?” Jacob asked, pointing up at another estate house as they passed by. Beyond the gates they could see a well-maintained cobblestone driveway, flanked by a pair of immaculately manicured plum trees that had begun to bear fruit. She looked at the estate house, and the washed stone of the drive, then to Jacob.

“What about it? You keep asking me about this manor or that house, as if it makes any difference to me whether I live in a place where there are three rooms or thirty,” she said, squeezing his arm.

Jacob flustered as he cleared his throat, covering her hand with his own for a moment. “If you wanted a home like this, and I could give it to you and let you live in comfort, why wouldn’t I?”

“Jacob,” Ellie’s voice came across as almost stern, and they paused in their step as he looked at her. “Why are you worried about this? Do you think I’ll lie in bed at night and want for thirty rooms and a down mattress more than I want for you to be beside me? I can bear anything, as long as you’re by my side.”

The earnestness with which she spoke made his cheeks turn red, but he still frowned. “But that’s just it, sweetheart—I don’t want you to have to _bear_ anything. I’d do anything to make you happy, and I will,” he insisted. He took her face in his hands, and leaned down to press a tender kiss against her forehead. Ellie closed her eyes as she leaned into the gesture.

“Do you not remember what I said to you before?” She sighed. “You already _do_ make me happy, Jacob. You always have.”

Heat crept onto his face. “At least let me _try_ to be worthy of you,” he mumbled.

Ellie cocked a brow as she leaned back. “Don’t I get a say in the matter, Mister Frye?” She demanded, though her voice was soft. “Is my word that you _are_ not enough?”

Jacob wouldn’t look at her, and his expression twisted a little. Her face fell, and she drew her fingers along his jaw to coax him to look at her.

“Oh, Jacob… what is this about?”

He swallowed, and though he’d turned towards her, he wouldn’t meet her gaze. She arched up to kiss him gently, and he let her do it.

“I want to be worthy of you, Ellie.”

Ellie sighed. “What would make you more worthy?” She demanded, though her tone remained gentle. “Surely you must have an idea, the way you prostrate about it.” After a tense pause, she relaxed as she sighed, a sound almost like defeat. “Thirty rooms and a down mattress, or three and a straw tick mean nothing if I don’t want you, Jacob. But I do. _I want you_. You—as you are—are enough. I don’t know how I can make that any clearer.”

Jacob’s cheeks darkened and he shuffled on his feet as she went on. “There was never a moment in all the years I’ve known you that you were unworthy, darling—of me, or anything else,” she insisted. “I gave myself to you. Is that not proof enough?”

“Of course it is, Ellie.” Jacob looked properly embarrassed as he squirmed. “But I’m not from the same world as you. I’m just a poor boy from Crawley—you’re practically royalty. More than that, I know things were better for you before you left. I want to be able to give you a good life, and let you live in comfort.” A beat. “You deserve at least that much.”

Ellie smiled indulgently as she pulled him down into another kiss. “Jacob Frye, you are impossible. I keep telling you it doesn’t matter what I do or don’t have, as long as you’re with me. That’s all I want for myself, and that’s all I need.”

“But you would still prefer the down mattress,” he mumbled.

Ellie cocked a brow. “Wouldn’t you? Or anyone, for that matter?” Jacob regarded her for a moment, then nodded. Ellie’s smile returned. “Then if you do these things to make a better life, do it for _us_ —do it because you want them, too. There’s no sense in making _me_ happy if you’re making yourself miserable to do it.”

Jacob seemed to consider what she said, and then sighed before he broke into a grin. Leaning down, he kissed her, over and over until she was giggling and breathless. “What would I do without you, Miss Blair,” he muttered fondly.

Ellie snorted a little as she left a last peck on his lips. “Probably get in a lot more trouble than you already do, if I had to guess.”

He laughed as he picked her up and spun her about once before setting her back on her feet. “You’re likely not wrong,” he said with a devilish grin. “Come now, let’s get on.” He offered his arm again, and she pushed it down, lacing her fingers up with his instead. He gave her a soft squeeze and a quick kiss on her forehead before he pulled her along.

They continued in silence, casually glancing at the houses that lined the street and all their fine trappings. Jacob paused in his step about halfway down the next lane, looking up at another estate. He heard Ellie’s sigh as she squeezed his hand, bracing for another question about whether or not she liked the place.

It was large, and appeared very weathered, the exterior lacking recent upkeep. It almost seemed as if it had been abandoned, but for the gates having been recently painted, and some of the overgrowth hastily trimmed back. Jacob narrowed his eyes as he looked at the crest plaques on the sandstone gate columns, and nodded towards them.

“Isn’t that your family crest?” He asked. Ellie cocked a brow as she took stock of the baroque-style estate, then squinted and took a step closer to the gate columns.

“Oh!” She gasped, brushing some of the street grime and soot away from the aged metal. “It is. How interesting.” She fell silent for a moment as she seemed to consider something, then looked up to Jacob. “My parents did tell me about an old family estate in St. Marylebone, but I’ve never seen it before. Maybe this is it.”

Jacob rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment, then tested the chain holding the gate shut. It felt brittle in his grip, and so he glanced over his shoulder briefly, then flexed his wrist to withdraw his blade.

“Jacob! What are you doing?” She hissed, grabbing at his arm. He twisted the blade, and the link snapped. Catching the chain before it cascaded to the ground, he carefully draped it over the gate.

“Let’s have a look inside, shall we?”

“Jacob! This is private property. We’d be trespassing,” she insisted.

Jacob made a face. “Do we not do just that as part of our work?”

She scowled a little. “Don’t split hairs—that’s different, and you know it. What’s your purpose here, if not to get us into trouble?” She demanded.

Jacob spread his hands. “Come now, love—you can’t tell me you’re not even a _little_ bit curious what your ancestral home looks like on the inside?”

Ellie’s expression softened, and she glanced sidelong. “Century-old furniture, and rotting floorboards, most likely… but we don’t even know if this _is_ my family’s property. It’s not as if Blair is a terribly uncommon surname,” she insisted.

Jacob rolled his eyes. “You said yourself, your family _has_ an estate, and it’s _in_ St. Marylebone. Which is precisely where we are. More than that, you Blairs are Assassins going back at least eight generations—you _really_ think there wouldn’t something that might be worth discovering?”

Ellie didn’t answer right away, but he could see the way her expression pinched that she was curious, and he was winning her over. Jacob tipped her face up to meet his gaze, brows raised expectantly.

Finally, she sighed. “Alright.”

Jacob smiled broadly as he pushed the gates open, holding his hand out to her. Gingerly, she curled her fingers in his, and he pulled her in. “Come on, then—let’s have a look.”

“The front door will be locked,” she mumbled, as if that might make him reconsider.

“How fortunate for us—we have lockpicks,” he replied with a roguish smile.

Ellie sighed as she rolled her eyes in exasperation, but leaned into his shoulder as he approached the door. As he tried the latch, they both drew in a sharp breath of surprise as it popped open.

“Well, now… isn’t this interesting,” he murmured, slowly nudging the door further.

Light from outside spilled into the large mudroom, illuminating the marble floors, covered in a healthy layer of dust and dirt tracks. A long moment of silence passed, and Jacob turned over his shoulder towards Ellie.

“How long has this place been abandoned?” He asked, his voice hardly a whisper.

She grabbed his arm, fingers digging into the fabric of his overcoat. “A little more than a century, I think? The Blairs fled London around the time the Brotherhood collapsed, but they kept the deed for the land, and so they still hold ownership. They must have a mandate in place to maintain it, or else I’d think it would be in much worse repair,” she replied, pressing closer to him. Jacob nodded his agreement, stepping past the mudroom and into the main foyer.

A fine chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling, covered in dust and cobwebs. Several pieces of furniture sat idly, covered by dusty drapes of cloth. The grand staircase split off in two directions at a landing that was presided over by a large rectangle, covered by another white cloth.

“Oh, shall we have a look?” Jacob said, grabbing the cloth.

“Jacob, wait—” Before Ellie could finish her protest, the cloth had slumped away in a cloud of dust.

Waiting a moment for the air to settle, Jacob turned back to Ellie, who stood at the bottom of the staircase. “Well, this does look a bit like your father, doesn’t it,” he commented, standing back to look at the painting.

Ellie climbed the steps to crouch down, reading the small plaque on the frame. “Yes… it’s my father’s great grandfather—Thomas Blair. There’s a similar portrait hung in the parlour at our manor in Crawley. I suppose that clinches it, then…”

Jacob hummed as he twined his fingers up in hers and drew her hand up to kiss the back of her gloved palm. “Let’s have a look further inside,” he insisted, tugging her up the staircase towards the west wing. She sighed out a laugh as she let herself be pulled along.

They peeked into every room they passed, finding a number of empty spaces, but some filled with cloth-covered furniture.

As they came across a set of French doors, Jacob hummed appraisingly. When he tried the latch, only to find it locked, he looked to Ellie. “Think there’s something worth seeing in there?”

Ellie shrugged, peering through the dusty glass panes. “I can’t make anything out. Do you have your lockpicks with you?”

“Don’t you?” He replied.

Ellie looked over her shoulder at him. “This was your idea—you can pick the lock.”

Jacob pinched her playfully, and she batted his hands away as she stood back, letting him work the lock for some minutes before they both heard the telltale _click_. Ellie pushed the doors open, finding a large, mostly-empty room past the threshold. The space was flanked on all sides by bookshelves, and only a few small items remained—an old desk clock, a few papers and pamphlets, and oddly, a sooty stoneware cup.

“Maybe a study, or some kind of library?” Jacob wondered aloud. Ellie hummed, but didn’t speak. His barb about _something worth discovering_ rippled through her mind, and she narrowed her eyes as she focused her Sight.

In the rear panel of a shelf about halfway into the room, she saw it—the barely-there outline of a switch. Her brow piqued in curiosity as she neared it. “Hello, there…”

Jacob turned towards her, a brow raised at the sound of her voice. He heard a _click_ , followed by the low rumbling sound of a mechanism activating, and the shelf scraped outward on a hinge, revealing an unlit passageway.

It was narrow—barely wide enough for a single person to walk in; they leaned curiously over the threshold of the entrance, peering into the void. Exchanging knowing looks, Ellie reached out and pulled the chain cord hanging near the wall sconce inside. In a puff of smoke, the sconce lit itself and illuminated the hallway. The passage wasn’t overly long, but appeared to be a dead end.

“Well, that’s not very exciting,” Jacob complained, but Ellie leveled him with a look.

“Please, Jacob—do you _really_ think Assassins would put a proper dead end in a hidden passageway?” She asked doubtfully. “Look, there,” she said, pointing down the hall. “Do you see it?”

Jacob narrowed his eyes as he followed her line of sight, and hummed appreciatively. “I do. A trap door, maybe?”

Ellie looked to him. “Would you like to do the honours?”

“Oh? What happened to ‘let’s not do anything to get in trouble’, Miss Blair?” He teased her.

She leveled him with a stern expression. “Do you want to do it, or not?”

Jacob pinched her side as he passed into the hall, carefully testing the floorboards as he went. They groaned in protest beneath his weight, and he chuckled nervously. “Perhaps I should lay off the tea cakes for a while…”

Ellie snorted a giggle, and waited for him to crouch down. A loud _crack_ sounded, and a trap door sprang up with a groaning screech of metal.

“Well, hello there… Ellie, come look at this,” Jacob called her, waving her in. Without waiting for a response, he disappeared down into the hole.

“Jacob!” She darted down the narrow hall, grabbing the torch as she went. Stopping short at the trap door, she saw Jacob slowly descending a creaking ladder in a narrow stone shaft.

“Come down here. Bring the light,” he called back, waving her in before carrying on. She grumbled beneath her breath— _you are absolutely impossible, Jacob Frye_ —and hurried to follow after him.

As they descended, Jacob quietly complained about the falling sparks from the torch in Ellie’s hand. “You went down first, Mister Frye,” Ellie scolded him. “Should I have dropped the torch on you, instead?”

Jacob’s complaints quickly disappeared after that.

When they finally made purchase on solid ground again, they found themselves in a small stone vestibule. The air smelled a little stale, and Ellie swung the torch around to brighten up the corners.

“There’s nothing here.”

“That’s very astute of you,” Jacob teased her. “You sound disappointed.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “You’ll pardon me if I was hoping for a pay off after breaking into my ancestral home and climbing down a rickety ladder in a secret passageway for several minutes. This looks like a—”

With a _clank_ , Jacob pulled on a wall sconce, and loud rumbling emitted as a patch of stone depressed, and slid out of the way to reveal another broad passage—this one wide enough for them both to walk down side by side. They exchanged glances, and Jacob pulled her along as they entered the long corridor.

“What do you suppose they put down here?” Ellie whispered, tucking a little closer to him.

Jacob shrugged noncommittally. “I don’t know that they put anything down here,” he replied. “This seems more like an escape route than anything.”

Some long minutes passed them in tense silence before they arrived in another vestibule—this one was connected to two diverging sewer pipes.

Ellie sighed. “Is this supposed to be some sort of game?”

Jacob chuckled. “Perhaps we should tell Evie about this, and let her decide if there’s more here. Just tell her it’s something about the precursors, and I’m sure she’ll gobble it up.”

“No. We’re here now. I want to see this through,” Ellie insisted. “Do you see any hidden doors or switches? Something besides the obvious?” She asked as Jacob sidled up next to her.

“No. Just these,” he replied, motioning to the two openings. Ellie moved the torch between them, trying to see if one was pulling air, but to no avail.

Jacob hummed. “Well, shall we split up, then?” He asked. Ellie stared at him as if he’d grown a second head, her grip on his hand tightening.

“Certainly not.”

Jacob chuckled as he squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Which way should we go, then?”

Ellie lowered the torch for a moment as she let her Sight focus a little more acutely, finding the path most trodden—rats, insects, and sewage workers, but nothing of particular note. Grimacing, she focused a little harder, tapping into her deeper Sense. She gasped out loud as she reared back.

Jacob caught her, his expression pinching with concern. “What is it? What’s wrong, Ellie?”

Ellie cleared her throat as she flustered. “I… my father’s been here, before. I don’t know when, exactly, but… I can Sense it. He’s walked this same path.” She looked to the left pipe, then gripped Jacob’s hand tightly. “It’s this way.”

Ellie grimaced as rats scurried away around them, over their feet or through their legs as they made their way down the pipe. When they finally arrived in another stone antechamber, it appeared to be an inspection chamber, and a ladder descended from above. She looked up briefly at the iron hole covering, then approached the wall next to the ladder. Calling on her Sense again, she felt Jacob’s hand squeeze hers in a comforting gesture—he could see the grimace on her features—as she searched for her father’s presence again.

“There,” she whispered, grabbing a stone not unlike the others around it, and pushing. She depressed it until she heard a _clunk_ , then stood back as a patch of stone moved out of place to reveal another broad, unlit passage.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Jacob mumbled. He could see the vein in her forehead throbbing, and the sweat collecting on her brow.

“I’m alright, darling,” she reassured him. “It’s just been a little while since I’ve had to call on my Sense, and you know how it can exhaust me.”

“You’re shaking,” he muttered, reaching a hand up to the nape of her neck. Her skin was unpleasantly warm under his hand, and he gave her a squeeze. She deflated a little with a trembling sigh, and a beat passed them in silence.

Finally, she rolled her shoulders back and shook her head as if to clear it, and looked up at him. “Thank you, Jacob,” she said, her smile a little weak as she took his hand again. “Come on.”

When they reached the end of the long hallway, they found another stone vestibule, and Jacob groaned as he tipped his head back. “For God’s sake…”

Ellie laughed as she pinched his cheek, pulling him towards the only opening in the chamber. “I’d say that’s certainly something worth discovering, wouldn’t you?” She asked, pointing the torch towards a massive, circular door at the end of the short hallway.

Jacob looked surprised, as if he hadn’t noticed it until she pointed it out, then hummed appraisingly. “I suppose so. Right now, it just looks like some very ornate door, but what’s on the other side might be more interesting… _if_ we can get in.”

Ellie smiled mischievously. “We’re Assassins, Jacob. Don’t you have your lockpicks?” She teased, sauntering towards the door.

“Wait!” Jacob grabbed her shoulder to pull her backward, and she let out a shout of surprise.

“Jacob, what—”

He pointed towards the floor just past the opening of the short hallway. There, plain as day, she saw it—a tripwire. Rudimentary, it seemed, but depending on what the trap was, potentially quite effective.

Ellie cleared her throat as she flustered. “I saw that,” she insisted. Jacob hummed as he rested his chin on her shoulder, putting his arms around her from behind.

“Is Miss Blair certain she wasn’t letting curiosity get the better of her just now?” He teased her, though she could tell he was posturing at least a little.

She wiggled out of his hold, looking stem. “Hardly. How does the saying go? Curiosity killed the cat—”

“But satisfaction brought it back,” he cooed, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “I know my proverbs just fine, thank you. Now then, let’s spring this trap and have a look inside, shall we?” Jacob pressed the tripwire with his foot. The wood of the floor just beyond it disappeared, opening up into a gaping chasm which they couldn’t see the bottom of.

Jacob whistled appreciatively. “Well, that looks like quite the drop.”

Ellie reached into her pocket, and pulled out a coin, tossing it down the hole. They waited several seconds before hearing it land with a quite _plink_ some distance below. They glanced at one another, and then Jacob knelt down to cut the wire.

The wood of the floor slipped back into place, and after a moment of hesitation, Ellie hopped over it. Jacob followed after her, taking her offered hand as they approached the door.

Up close, it was almost offensively ornate, intricate filigree carved into dark, heavy metal. In the middle, where she imagined a handle might be, the Assassin crest sat embossed into a circular plate. She noticed the tiny slit, and hummed as she flicked her wrist.

Her hidden blade slipped easily into the slot, and she jiggled it around, turning until a loud clanking sound alerted them both. Ellie quickly pulled her hand back as the door split in two and parted. From beyond, they heard the whooshing sound of torches coming to life, illuminating the darkness.

When the doors finally receded, they were met with a great room and a large, upright copper cylinder stood at the centre. Flanking it in a circle were eight strange-looking apparatuses with circular depressions, all seemingly connected to the copper cylinder by some sort of steam power. Jacob and Ellie looked to each other in disbelief before stepping over the threshold.

“What do you suppose all this is?” Jacob asked. A tea cart sat between two of the bronze mechanisms, and looked oddly out of place against the stone and metal structure of the room. Jacob picked up the box that was sat atop the cart, and lifted the lid.

“Well, hello there,” he murmured, lifting a circular disc out of the box. It was emblazoned with the Assassin crest, and Jacob approached one of the bronze machines, testing to see if the disc fit. It clicked into place, and a whirring emitted from the cylinder at the centre as a set of metal clasps popped open with a loud hiss.

“It’s clearly a vault of some kind,” Ellie said, picking up the thick tome that was sat on the tea cart next to the box. “What’s it protecting, I wonder?”

Flipping open the cover of the book, she found a name she was familiar with from her studies. “Michel Reuge… oh my God, is this Michel Reuge’s vault?” Ellie lifted the box and turned it over to reveal a tiny crank. After turning it a few times, a soft melody began to play, and Jacob looked towards her.

“It must be. Jacob,” Ellie gasped, looking to him. “This is Michel’s Reuge’s vault.”

“Who?” Jacob asked, raising a brow.

Ellie’s expression became a little exasperated, even as she laughed. “I suppose you never were particularly fond of your studies. I’m certain Evie knows about this, though, and would be delighted to learn of it,” she replied. “Reuge wrote a volume about some grand treasure he found near Bath—it drove him mad, and he commissioned a vault beneath London to lock it away.”

“And you suppose this is it?” Jacob asked.

Ellie nodded. “Yes. In his writings, he said that the mechanism guarding the treasure could only be opened with keys from a set of special musical boxes—like that one you put in there. Jacob, this is incredible!” She exclaimed, eyes alight.

Jacob flashed her a roguish smile as he took her hand and spun her about before catching her by the waist. “And to think, you didn’t want to break in,” he teased.

Ellie laughed as she rolled her eyes, nudging Jacob’s foot so he began a slow waltz for the second time that day. “Yes, well, you’ll have to forgive me for thinking more objectively about what might happen if we were caught.”

Jacob hummed as he kissed her softly, carrying on with their dance. “If I recall correctly, we were caught at the Blackburns’ ball, and everything worked out just fine.”

“For goodness sake, Jacob,” Ellie huffed. “That’s a little different.”

Jacob purred as he ceased their dance, catching her about the waist as he pressed kiss after kiss against her mouth, slowly backing her up into the stone wall of the vault. “Is it really?”

Pinned firmly beneath him, she flustered at the latent hunger in his gaze. “I… maybe? I don’t know,” she stammered, her expression delightfully bewildered as she tried to squirm out of his grip.

Jacob chuckled as he released her, standing back to let her right herself. He didn’t say anything further as he brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear, then leaned down to leave a lingering kiss on her forehead. Seeing the way her eyes had lit up with their success, however unintentional, had made Jacob’s chest feel light, and he couldn’t help his fond smile.

Ellie regarded him for a long moment, then put her arms around his broad frame, tucking in against his chest. As Jacob returned the gesture, Ellie let out a long, happy sigh—it felt good to hold him that way, and to be held, and she was determined to savour that moment.

When she finally stepped back and he did the same, she smiled up at him with such fond affection that Jacob flustered, casting his gaze aside as he cleared his throat.

Ellie giggled as she knelt to pick up the discarded torch, then reached for Jacob’s hand, curling their fingers up together. “I don’t think there’s much more we can do in here without the rest of the keys, but I’m certain Evie will be more than delighted to follow up on this lead. For now, though, I think we ought to get back.”

Jacob chuckled as he followed her out. “Has Miss Blair had enough exploring for today?” He teased.

She smiled as she gave him a soft squeeze. “I think we both have,” she replied.

Jacob nodded as he followed her out. “True. Exploring is all well and good, but I’d like to spend a little more time alone with you somewhere other than a dank sewer.”

Ellie snorted out a laugh as she pushed on an odd stone on the outside of the vault chamber, and the floor rumbled as the grand circular doors slid back into place.

Setting the torch back in its sconce in the Blair manor, Ellie picked the sooty stoneware cup off the shelf to snuff out the flame. It took them a moment for their eyes to adjust to the darkness, while Ellie pushed the shelf back into place, waiting for the clunk of the mechanism to signal it was secure.

Jacob offered up his arm, and Ellie smiled as she took it, letting him lead them back down to the main foyer. They paused at the bottom of the stairs as Ellie checked her pocket watch. “It’s near supper. Why don’t we find someplace to have a bite to eat, and then we can go home?”

“Home…” Jacob hummed as he took her hand, spinning her around once before setting her in place and taking a few steps back. “Yes, I can see it now—the best ladies’ finery that money can buy, and you’ll stand there for your portrait.”

Ellie looked perplexed. “My portrait?”

“Yes,” Jacob insisted. “When you and I make our home together, we’ll commission a portrait of you to hang in the foyer, just like your ancestor has now. But it’ll be you, instead—a much less dour figure. It’ll be your lovely face that welcomes guests into our home.”

Ellie giggled, even as she flustered. “And what of Mister Frye? Wouldn’t he like a portrait to hang in the main hall of his home, too?” Ellie asked, folding her hands together.

Jacob flustered as he glanced away. “I’d rather see you each time I came in, rather than myself,” he mumbled.

Ellie closed the distance between them, and took his hands. “Why not a portrait of us both? We can see each other, then.”

Jacob looked delighted at the suggestion, and Ellie leaned up to give him a soft kiss. “I think it would be terribly lonely to have to preside over an entire household by myself, even in a painting. I’d like it to be a portrait of both of us. After all, we are partners, aren’t we?”

Jacob smiled wistfully, then took her face in his hands to kiss her, over and over until she was nearly breathless. “I think so, sweetheart.” A beat, and he nuzzled her cheek. “Do you think this could be our home, one day?”

She smiled indulgently as she left a last peck on his lips. “Speak with my father—he holds the deed, so he’d be the one who could tell you.”

She had only been half-serious, but the sudden mischievous twinkle in Jacob’s eye made her fluster. He leaned forward and put another kiss against her mouth before he released his hold on her. Tucking his fingers in against hers, he led them out of the estate, and back down the lane, as casually as they had arrived.

* * *

Some hours and several pints later, they’d found themselves back at their let room. Jacob hummed lazily as he settled on top of Ellie’s supine form where she rested on the settee. Putting his arms around her middle, he laid his head on her bosom.

She giggled as she carded her fingers through his hair, leaving a kiss on his brow. “Maybe you shouldn’t have had the fourth pint, love.”

Jacob chuckled as he nuzzled into her. “Maybe you shouldn’t have such fantastic breasts,” he slurred in response, pressing a little closer.

Ellie tipped her head back as she laughed, giving him a hard squeeze before pressing her face into the top of his hair. “Jacob Frye, you are as intolerable as you are handsome,” she muttered fondly.

Jacob’s head popped up with a lopsided grin as he looked at her. “That must mean ineffably, no?” He mumbled, stumbling a little on his words.

Ellie’s expression softened as she brushed a few strands of hair behind his ear, thumbing over his brow and the sharp curve of his cheekbone. “Maybe you’re more handsome than you are intolerable, then,” she said, craning down to give him a soft kiss.

Jacob groaned and pressed his face into her chest again, his ears quickly turning pink. “Damn it, you’re not supposed to agree,” he muttered.

Ellie giggled with delight as she pressed a few kisses against his hair. “Where’s the fun in lying, if I can make you turn so red?” She let out another laugh as Jacob groaned again, burying himself further against her.

“Are you quite comfortable there?”

Jacob shifted, tilting his face up to look at her for a long minute. One hand slid up her belly to cup the shape of her breast through her clothes, and his smile grew cheeky. “I’d be more comfortable without all of this in the way.”

Ellie snorted out a laugh. “Shall we retire for the evening, then?”

Jacob smiled lazily as he scooped her up in his arms, her legs hiked around his waist. “An excellent proposition, Miss Blair,” he mumbled, carting them towards the bed. Ellie laughed as she wriggled out of his grip, and a comfortable silence settled between them as they sloughed off their clothes and saw to their nightly rituals.

As Ellie slipped beneath the covers, Jacob dove in after her, wrapping her up tightly in his arms as he buried his face back into her chest. Ellie laughed as she gave him a squeeze, the two of them wiggling about in the bed until they were comfortable, tucked in together on their sides.

She sighed as she rifled her fingers through his hair. “Stay the night, darling,” she murmured against his crown. “I like it better when I wake up beside you.”

Jacob’s cheeks flushed with heat, and he burrowed into her chest again, fingers flexing against the small of her back where he held her. “You drive a hard bargain, Miss Blair, but I suppose I could be convinced…”

“What shall I offer as compensation for your compliance, Mister Frye?” She asked, her voice lined at the edges with sleep, but still a little teasing. Jacob lifted his face to look at her, watching the soft expression that graced her features. Without a word, he leaned up to press an achingly tender kiss against her mouth—one which she was quick to return—before settling back against her breast.

“That will do.”

Ellie snorted out a giggle as she tucked him in a little more snugly, burrowing into the dark nest of his hair. “Very well, Mister Frye. Then I shall expect to see your handsome face tomorrow morning with the sunrise.”

Jacob gave her a hard squeeze as a bright smile curled his lips. “As I will expect to see yours.”

Silence settled between them again, and Jacob turned his ear towards her chest, letting the low, slow thrum of her heartbeat lull him into a deep slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I clearly took some liberties with the appearance and access for Reuge's Vault, but since this whole story is an AU, and the general location of it in the game seemed too easily-accessible, I decided to make a few changes. I had a lot of fun writing those parts, so hopefully it shows (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) 
> 
> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, please leave me a comment to let me know! It makes my day every time, and helps motivate me to continue writing! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡


	13. The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A strange letter arrives from the Paris Brotherhood.

“Ellie, there’s a letter here for you,” Evie called as the dark-skinned woman passed through her train carriage. Ellie paused and turned towards the freckled twin.

“Oh, yes? Why do you have it, darling? Doesn’t Agnes usually hold the post?” She asked as she approached.

Evie nodded. “Yes. The letter wasn’t addressed to you specifically, but the London Brotherhood. It goes on to request you by name in its pages, though,” she replied, offering the letter to Ellie.

She took it with a wrinkle of her nose. “This is the Parisian crest, isn’t it?” She asked, pointing to the broken seal on the envelope. Evie nodded, studying Ellie as she read through its pages. Thick silence hung in the air as Ellie’s eyes passed over the parchment.

“What on earth? ‘Plead your case’? Surely they’re joking,” she scoffed, looking to Evie.

“It would seem they aren’t, given that they took the time to send the letter,” she replied.

“Why are they requesting _me_?”

Evie shrugged. “Perhaps your name comes to mind because you are a woman of action.”

Ellie frowned as she made a face. “If they wanted a woman of action, why not request you, then?”

Evie smiled as she stood, crossing her arms. “They asked specifically for ‘Mademoiselle Eleanor Blair’ in their letter, Ellie. That’s why not me.”

“Well, that’s all well and good, Evie, but I don’t want to go.”

Evie raised a brow. “Is that pride I hear in your voice?”

“What’s pride got to do with it? I simply don’t want to go,” Ellie repeated. “What could I tell them that you or Henry couldn’t? Or that I couldn’t relay to them in a letter? The Council at Crawley won’t send aid, so we must go groveling to Paris for the hope that they will?”

“It’s not groveling, Ellie. They sent us this correspondence, without provocation. We shouldn’t ignore that.”

“I beg to differ,” Ellie scoffed, tossing the letter to the floor.

Evie sighed. “As far as the Brotherhood is concerned, Mister Green doesn’t exist—you know this,” she insisted. “You, on the other hand, are held in high regard, even in Crawley. And you’ve seen what it’s like in the city.”

“So have you. And Jacob.”

Evie winced. “You and I both know that Jacob would be a poor choice to send to Paris. That’s besides the fact that both he and I are not exactly held in esteem any longer, having come to London without leave. You, at least, are here with the Council’s blessing.”

Now it was Ellie’s turn to make a face. “Yes, and a fat lot of good their ‘blessing’ has done any of us in the last two and a half years,” she snapped. “The Council is a gaggle of old fools who have overblown their own importance. They bloviate about _tradition_ and _creed_ , all from the comfort of their manors and estates, at least thirty miles removed from the troubles of the rest of the world. Who let London fall into Templar hands a century ago? And who let it languish these last years, even after Henry and I both _begged_ for aid?”

A beat, and she went on.

“Their response was to tell me to return to Crawley if I felt London was not safe, as if I would abandon Henry to such a fate. In the end, I would have come to London whether the Council gave me sanction or not—the same as you. They may not have given you their blessing to be here, but I cannot tell you how little their approval means to me, now that I have seen what it can provide.”

Evie laughed. “While all of that may be true, Ellie, that doesn’t change the fact that the Brotherhood at large still places value and weight behind Council decisions, even though we may not,” she replied. “Paris has asked for you. We are doing well, but more help certainly couldn’t hurt.”

Ellie scowled. “You say that as if they’ve already promised aid. If they had, I might be more amicable to the idea of going three hundred miles to treat with them, but they haven’t. All they’ve done is tell me I should come to Paris to beg, and should I do so well enough, that they will then _consider_ it. I will not kowtow to them, wasting my time _begging_ for aid that I know will never come.”

Evie’s expression hardened. “They haven’t explained themselves further in the letter, but I think it’s likely they want a more first-hand account of the situation from someone who’s experienced it more directly.”

“Any one of us could give them that. Once more, I ask: why request me to _go there_ —weakening our position in London, might I add—when a letter would suffice, and relay the same detail? I’m not about to go running off to grovel to them in the hope that they can perhaps _consider_ sending a vanguard back with me,” Ellie shot back.

Evie pursed her lips as she regarded her friend. “Will you at least consider going?”

“No. I already said I don’t want to go, and I don’t answer to Paris. I’ll write them a letter, but I’m not going to them on a whim to _hope_ they’ll send aid,” Ellie said.“ Not after what happened at Crawley.”

“Can we please discuss this with Henry?”

Ellie narrowed her eyes as she regarded the taller woman. “Why? What possible reason could there be to involve him in something that doesn’t concern him at all? He doesn’t exist, as far as the Brotherhood is concerned, remember?”

“It concerns the Assassins, therefore, it concerns him, and it behooves us to consider other perspectives on the matter. Perhaps if you did, you would change your mind,” Evie replied.

Ellie’s brows shot up. “I’ll not be bullied into going, Evie. If you’re to collect Henry to bring in ‘other perspectives’, as you say, then I think Jacob would be another perfect candidate to include in the discussion. If this concerns the Assassins, it concerns _all_ of us, according to you.”

Evie’s jaw clenched, and she knew she’d struck a nerve. When she didn’t speak, Ellie laughed dryly. “Very well. In the interest of _fairness_ —if you will collect Jacob, I’ll see to Henry,” she said. Evie nodded, though her expression was sour, and the two of them crossed to opposite ends of the car to find their quarry.

A half hour later, the four of them were together in Evie’s train carriage, having passed the letter around for Henry and Jacob to read. Before Jacob had finished scanning the pages, Evie had begun to talk of Ellie’s departure. Ellie could only roll her eyes with a heavy sigh.

Jacob’s brow furrowed as he looked to Ellie, who leaned against the armchair in which he sat. “Did you already decide when you’re leaving?” He asked.

She shook her head. “No. I already told her I don’t want to go,” she replied.

Jacob’s expression hardened into a scowl as he turned his gaze on his sister. “Then why are you talking about it as if she _is_ going?”

“The Council has sent us a call. We should answer it,” Evie replied.

“The Council at _Paris_. We don’t answer to them,” Jacob insisted.

“We barely answer to the Council at Crawley,” Evie muttered. Jacob looked at her expectantly, and she sighed gruffly. “It would be foolish not to send someone after they’ve asked us to,” she asserted.

Jacob glanced at Henry. “Can’t we send Greenie?”

Evie’s brow furrowed. “Jacob, they asked for Ellie by name.”

“And? What they’re asking for is simple information—why do we need to send someone at all? Wouldn’t a letter be enough?” He pressed, rising to his feet and crossing his arms.

“That’s what I said,” Ellie muttered, mirroring Jacob’s posture.

“They reached out to us first, without provocation. We shouldn’t ignore that,” Evie argued, standing to meet him.

“Very well. I’ll go with her, then,” Jacob replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

Evie frowned. “No, you won’t.”

“Oh? And why not?” He demanded, his expression and voice both equally petulant.

“Because, Jacob—the Rooks are _your_ responsibility, and I’ve my own duties that would take me away from reining them in during your absence.”

“You can handle them for a few days,” he muttered.

Evie rolled her eyes hard. “Jacob, please. It takes days just to _reach_ Paris. Her meeting with the Council there will be a good deal longer. We can ill afford for both of you to be gone for that long.”

“So then why are we considering sending someone at all? We’re doing just fine on our own, aren’t we?” Jacob snarled.

“We would be foolish to ignore this, Jacob,” Henry put in. “As Evie has said, we cannot ignore that Paris reached out to us first, without prompt.”

“I don’t remember asking for _your_ opinion, Greenie,” Jacob snapped.

Evie’s posture grew tense as she shot a warning glare at her brother. “Mind your manners, Jacob…”

Jacob rolled his eyes in response. “If the Council at Paris is anything like the one at Crawley, they’ve already made their decision. If they really wanted to aid us, they’d have sent someone.”

Ellie nodded sagely, which didn’t go unnoticed by Jacob. “You see? Ellie agrees with me, and she would know better than any of us,” he insisted.

“Of course I do,” Ellie replied, returning Evie’s glower as she went on. “This is foolish, and I’ve already said as much. Jacob is right—and so am I. The Council has likely already made their decision, and only wants someone to provide them with a summary of the events that have transpired. If they were truly intent on sending us aid, they would have done so already.

“More than that, I don’t _want_ to go—it weakens our position. I’ll be required to treat in Paris for weeks, at minimum, and in the end, no matter how convincingly I argue, I’ll likely be sent back empty-handed. If all they are looking for is an explanation of what has happened in London since the Assassins have resurfaced, a letter will suffice.”

“You can’t know for certain that they won’t send aid, Ellie,” Evie muttered.

Ellie frowned. “Can’t I? Have you ever treated with the Council at Crawley before, Evie? I have. If they were truly intent on sending aid, they would have sent an envoy of their own people to observe and assess the situation, instead of asking us to weaken our position by sending someone to have a chat.”

A thick silence settled between the four of them, and finally, Evie crossed her arms. “I still think you should go. The Paris Brotherhood is well-established, and will be much better equipped than Crawley to send us aid,” she insisted.

Jacob tipped his head back, and Ellie groaned as she rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “You’re not _listening_ , Evie! Even more than that, you’re refuting your own points. If the Brotherhood in Paris is more equipped to send aid, and the status of London is _known_ abroad—and don’t fool yourself into thinking it isn’t—then what _possible_ reason could there be for them to ask for someone to come and argue a point when it would have been easier and _more sensible_ for them to _send someone_?” Ellie’s voice rose several octaves as she spoke.

Evie’s lip curled briefly as her nose wrinkled. “Why are you so upset about this?” She asked, though her tone was condescending.

“Because I don’t want to go! I told you already, a dozen times, and yet you’re intent on arguing with me!” Ellie snapped, squaring her shoulders up against the taller woman.

Evie grimaced as she rolled her eyes. “You’re acting like—” The elder twin stopped herself from going on, her mouth screwing up a little.

“Like what, Evie?” Ellie demanded, looking cross.

After a beat, Evie let out a gruff sigh. “Like Jacob. Like a _child_ ,” she snapped. Ellie’s head tipped back briefly as she regarded the elder twin with some disdain.

Finally, Jacob growled. “Shall we put it to a vote, then? All in favour of Ellie wasting her time making a pointless voyage all the way to Paris for no reason, raise your hand.”

Evie scowled. “That’s not fair, Jacob—”

“Are you in favour or not?” Jacob interrupted her. She responded by raising her hand, and Henry did the same.

“All opposed?” Jacob and Ellie both raised their hands, and Jacob’s expression became just a little smug. “Well, it seems we’ve arrived at an impasse,” he said, straightening his waistcoat.

“Mister Green, a coin, if you please? Since Jacob wants to be diplomatic about this, we’ll put it to a toss-up,” Evie said. Henry nodded, digging into his purse.

Jacob scowled at his sister. “Oh? I didn’t realise a coin toss was typically considered part of diplomatic process,” he growled.

Evie rolled her eyes. “And what would _you_ know of diplomatic process, Jacob?”

“A good deal more than you, apparently,” Ellie muttered.

“Ellie, _please_ —now is _not_ the time to be childish,” Evie huffed.

Ellie squared her angry gaze against her friend. “Childish!” She snapped. “She demands I do something against my will, then turns to games of chance when she can’t win by due process, and then has the _gall_ to call _me_ childish!”

Evie flustered, but didn’t refute any of Ellie’s points, and so she went on.

“We’ve all seen what we’re capable of here in London, with just the four of us. You may think Paris is doing us a favour by offering their support, but by asking me to go all the way there to treat instead of coming here to survey the situation themselves, they have asked us to weaken our position. _That_ is something I will not abide by.”

“Are you certain you aren’t just making something up to avoid an obligation?” Evie replied.

Ellie’s nostrils flared and she drew in a slow breath. “How dare you? When have I _ever_ shirked my duties to the Brotherhood?” As Evie’s posture shrank, she continued. “ _Again_ , you’re ignoring the point—why ask us to leave London weakened? Why not come and see for themselves?”

“The same reason the Council at Crawley sent you here two years ago—to survey, without having to get their own hands dirty,” Evie mumbled, although her tone and expression were both mollified.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “And once more, you refute yourself. Crawley was not in a position that stood to be weakened by my absence—as Paris does not stand to be weakened by an envoy’s absence, now. Beyond which, that is precisely why Crawley _sent_ _me_ —to observe, and take action where I deemed it necessary. I was to return after a time to report back, which I did, and they made their decision then. Do you not see the parallel, here?”

Evie pursed her lips as she looked away.

“Miss Frye?” Henry extended his hand, a shilling resting in his palm.

“If you please, Mister Green,” she said, taking a step back. Henry placed the coin on his thumb, waiting until both the twins nodded, then flicked it up into the air.

“Heads,” Evie called.

Jacob glowered at his sister briefly, then looked towards the coin as it landed on the floorboards, bouncing a few times before settling. Evie and Jacob both crouched down to look.

“Ha!” Evie shouted, standing with a triumphant grin. “The queen shows her face.” She turned to Ellie, whose expression fell. “We’ll settle your affairs here, and—”

“No,” Jacob snapped, his tone brooking no argument. “We need her here, not off in Paris begging for aid that will never come.”

Evie frowned. “Have faith, Jacob. Ellie is a brilliant rhetorician, and the Council there did—”

“Reach out to us first—yes, I know. You seem to like repeating that, as if it would sway my opinion,” Jacob interrupted. He ignored his sister’s scowl and went on. “We all know this is a fool’s errand, whether they reached out to us or not. We’re weakening our position, and Ellie will come back with nothing to show for her efforts.”

“It doesn’t matter if that’s swayed your opinion or not,” Evie spat. “I won the coin toss, fair and square. Ellie is going.”

Jacob and Ellie both looked properly shocked at the authoritarian tone of her voice.

Evie turned back to Ellie. “We’ll settle your affairs here, and you can leave on a steamship two days from now. You’ll be to Paris within the week.”

“Then I’m going with her,” Jacob put in with a low snarl.

“No, you’re not,” Evie replied, squaring up against Jacob. The air crackled with tension as they stared each other down.

“Yes. I. Am.” The emphasis on each word dripped with vitriol, and Ellie could see the tension in him from the way he postured.

“You are needed here to manage your gang, Jacob,” Evie replied, leveling her tone. “We can’t afford for you to be gone, too.”

The dismissive tone of his sister’s voice only seemed to agitate him. “You can’t tell me what to do anymore, Evie. Father’s not here to coddle you like before,” Jacob muttered.

“As if I could ever tell you what to do, Jacob,” Evie snapped, her tone rising again at Jacob’s barb.

“Jacob, be reasonable,” Henry insisted, trying to defuse the situation. “Ellie’s absence will make things difficult, but to have the both of you gone would be disastrous. You cannot go with her—we need you here.”

Jacob glared directly at Henry, who didn’t shy away from his bitter gaze. When it was clear neither Henry nor his sister would back down, he looked to Ellie. Her posture and expression could only be described as defeated, as if she had resigned herself to it. She looked to him imploringly, and his own shoulders fell as he turned back to Evie.

“Fine,” he snapped, and stormed from the car.

“Jacob!” Evie called after him.

Ellie raised a hand to placate the older twin as she moved to block her path. “Leave him, Evie,” she said. “I’ll go speak with him.”

“He’s acting like a child. I won the coin toss,” Evie muttered.

Ellie’s brows shot up. “I would like to point out to you once more that not only did you ignore both mine and Jacob’s _perfectly reasonable_ misgivings about this, you _also_ ignored my agency by leaving the decision up to a coin toss to get your way— _that_ was childish. And _don’t_ try to convince me that you wouldn’t have argued the other side if the coin had come up in our favour instead.”

  
Evie looked embarrassed for a moment, but then she frowned. “You agreed—”

“No, I didn’t,” Ellie stopped her. “Jacob suggested the vote, which we all knew would be split. You _decided_ on the coin toss, and ignored me when I argued. The enclave at Paris shouldn’t care who reports to them about the situation, or how, so long as they receive the facts.”

“I have no doubt they wouldn’t accept anything I said to them,” Evie insisted. “I’ve no jurisdiction for being here, unlike you.”  


Ellie clenched her jaw and drew in a deep breath. “If I couldn’t even convince the Council at Crawley—a city only thirty miles away—to send aid to London, what _possible_ hope is there of me convincing the Council at Paris to send aid to us from _three hundred_ miles away?”

Evie glanced sidelong, but didn’t speak. A beat passed, and Ellie sighed.

“I’ll go, out of _fairness_ ,” Ellie muttered bitterly. “But don’t think I’m happy about it.” A beat passed, and she deflated. “I’m going to see Jacob, now. Perhaps I can put him at ease.”

Evie huffed. “You’ll only be gone for a few short weeks. He’s—”

“ _Stop_ ,” Ellie interrupted her. “Even if you were right, you don’t get to argue against your brother’s feelings.”

“His _feelings_ are clouding his judgement,” Evie muttered.

“You think his feelings for me affected his vote? Really, Evie?” Ellie looked incredulous.

“He depends on you too much. He can’t let his personal feelings compromise the mission.”

Ellie’s nostrils flared as she pursed her lips. “Ah. I see.”

“What?”

The dark-skinned woman narrowed her eyes at her friend. Her expression could only be described as disdainful, and Evie immediately knew why—those were her father’s words, and he’d weaponized them more than once against each of them. Against Henry, too, she suspected.

“I’m sorry, Ellie, I didn’t mean—”

Ellie held a hand up to stop her. “We all depend on each other, Evie. _All of us_. I doubt very sincerely that my involvement with him swayed his opinion. It may have helped to inform it more passionately, but I don’t think it swayed him one way or another.” A pause. “Whether it swayed him or not, Jacob is entitled to feel however he feels about this—as are you, and Henry, and myself. But beyond any of that, you know perfectly well that I’ll be gone no less than a month, and given the Council’s need to bloviate and ask circular questions, it’ll likely be much longer.”

After a moment, her expression softened. “Besides, you both hate to lose— _especially_ to each other.”

Evie’s posture relaxed—Ellie wasn’t _truly_ cross with her if she could make jokes, but she didn’t question that she was at least a little upset. She cleared her throat. “What will you do?”

Ellie smiled, though it was weak. “I’ll go see to him. I don’t know what I’ll say, but at least I can try.”

Evie nodded her assent, and Ellie nodded in kind as she departed Evie’s carriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, please leave me a comment to let me know! It makes my day every time, and helps motivate me to continue writing! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡


	14. Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. The fallout from the letter, and everything else.

Jacob glowered at Ellie over his shoulder as she entered his carriage, making her stop short when she saw his expression. It wasn’t malefic, only abraded and hurt.

“Please let me go with you.”

Ellie wrung her hands. “You can’t, darling. We can ill afford for _me_ to go, but the both of us?”

“Please,” he insisted, reaching for her hands. “I want to go with you, Ellie. Don’t make me stay here.”

“Jacob, with the network we’ve built, Evie and Henry can’t manage all of it on their own. Even with your considerable skills at hand, they would struggle. You know this, love.”

Jacob’s brow furrowed, and his cheeks grew a little ruddy. “Please, Ellie…” He was pleading. “Don’t—” His lips twitched and he swallowed his words before he could utter them. His mouth screwed up as he scowled. Finally, he gave up, and flopped down onto his settee, arms crossed sorely over his chest.

Ellie frowned as she regarded him. _Of course he would brood._ After a few tense minutes of silence passed, she moved to stand before him.

“What do you want me to do?” She asked. He looked up at her, then leaned forward.

“I want you to let me come with you,” he repeated, taking her hands in his again.

Ellie’s expression softened as she reached to stroke thumb over his cheek. There was too much unsaid, and so she nudged his chin. “Talk to me, Jacob. What’s on your mind?”

He stood abruptly, grabbing her wrists as he stared her down. “Let me come with you,” he insisted. “I’ve had to do this twice before. Don’t make do it again. _Please_.”

Ellie’s brow furrowed. “Do what? If this is about waiting—”

“Damn the waiting, Ellie. That’s not what this is about.” He paused as his expression soured, and Ellie’s chest tightened uncomfortably when he turned back to her, his expression filled with anguish. “I don’t care about waiting. I’ll wait for you, as long as you need me to. Only don’t make me look at your back again. Please. _Don’t leave me behind_.”

Pain bloomed out in her chest as the weight of his words settled into her. She reached and took his face in her hands, and his own expression softened. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she drew him in, and he responded in kind, crushing her against his chest as he buried into the crook of her neck. The feeling was too familiar, and brought back unpleasant memories of the day she left Crawley.

Anxiety welled up in her stomach and spread into her chest as she squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry, Jacob.”

Jacob sighed as he gave her a squeeze. “I know, sweetheart. And so am I,” he muttered, leaning back to look at her. Drawing his knuckles down her cheek, he regarded her with sad longing. “I know you don’t want to go, any more than I want you to. I would never ask you to give up your duties for me. And I won’t.”

A beat.

“So let me come with you. Please.”

Ellie leaned back to look at him, stroking his hair. “You know you can’t, love…”

His nose wrinkled with a scowl and she could see his anger boiling just beneath the surface as he nodded. Ellie’s heart broke at the defeat in his expression, and she took his face into her hands again.

“It won’t be for long. I promise, darling. A week, no more,” she insisted.

Jacob’s smile was appreciative, but he shook his head. “The last time we had this discussion, we both said ‘only six months’, and that turned into two years.” He paused as he swallowed. “I know it won’t be nearly _that_ long, but I’ve already had to endure it enough—being apart from you. I don’t want to do it again. Not if I have any say in the matter…”

Her expression fell, and he pressed a digit to her lips to stop her from going on. “It took the Council at Crawley weeks of deliberation over months of your briefings to decide about London. A week would be hardly enough time for you to arrive and get settled, never mind beginning to deliver initial information to them. And beyond that, they will have questions,” he mumbled. His hand stroked along her back in a gesture of comfort as he brushed a few of her tears away. When he paused, he took her chin and tipped her up to leave a kiss on her forehead.

She let out a soft whimper as she leaned into his shoulder. “There are days, Jacob Frye, when I hate this life more than anything,” she muttered bitterly. “We spend our lives sacrificing our time and our energy—and even our _lives_ when the occasion calls—so that others may benefit, but when do _we_ get to live for ourselves?”

Jacob hushed her, but offered no answer as the tension remained. He squeezed at the nape of her neck, and Ellie’s fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.

When she leaned back from him, she leveled him with a look, the weight of which made him feel abruptly warm. In a fluid motion, she pushed him back down onto the settee, a sound of surprise escaping him as she shifted to straddle his lap.

He looked to her in bewilderment. “Ellie?”

She regarded him affectionately, though her expression was aggrieved as her fingers teased down his throat. “If I’m being made to leave you behind _again_ , against my will, I do so on my own terms—” she purred, her hand sliding down to stroke over his chest. “I leave you with a parting gift.”

He swallowed, his expression eager and heartsick in equal measure. She whispered his name like a prayer against his mouth, warm and sweet, and his body flooded with desire as she kissed him, more and more insistent with each pull. Her fingers coursed down his chest, doing away with the buttons of his clothes as they went, and the desperate sound of her sigh made him tremble.

He murmured her name, his gaze lidded as he grabbed her hips, pulling her down against him. A moan welled up in her throat, and a teasing remark died on his tongue as she licked into his mouth, her fingers gliding through his hair. She nearly tore his waistcoat and shirt off his broad frame, and he couldn’t help his chuckle, despite the weight he felt in his chest.

“Eager, are you?” He tried to tease, but his voice trembled. She only nodded, reaching for the buttons of his trousers.

Jacob caught her wrist. “Easy, love. What is it you always tell me—don’t chase it?” He cooed. Ellie’s brow knit as she sniffled, biting back her tears as she nodded in agreement.

Jacob cupped her cheek, brushing along the delicate skin beneath her eye. “Come now—we’ve time yet. Let’s enjoy it, while we can,” he murmured, reaching for the buttons of her clothes.

“You needn’t worry about me, darling,” Ellie’s voice wavered only a little as she gently batted his hands away. “This is a parting gift for you. It doesn’t require reciprocity.”

Jacob’s expression grew stern as he curled his fingers into the fabric of her waistcoat. “That’s not how it’s supposed to work, Ellie. I want this to be about both of us…” he mumbled. “As it should be.”

Ellie swallowed, but nodded her head as she let him begin again.

Hands roamed over warm skin as clothes and underthings were pulled and tugged and yanked.

Finally, she stood bare before him on the settee, her accoutrements all tossed on the floor in a pile with his. He stroked himself as his free hand rested against her belly, thumb stroking over the space below her navel.

Ellie reached to cup his cheek, and he turned his face to kiss her palm. The pang in her chest was palpable as she leaned in to coax him into a gentle kiss, lips soft against his. Jacob clambered to touch her as she slowly lowered herself to straddle his thighs.

Some long minutes passed them in silence as she let him draw his kisses down the curve of her jaw and throat. Fondling the plush mounds of her breasts, he nuzzled into her.

“You’re so soft…”

Ellie put her arms around his shoulders as she giggled. “Never an unkind word from you.”

Jacob hummed his agreement, leaving warm, open-mouthed kisses over the curve of her breasts, fingers toying with the buds of her nipples. “Do you want me to be unkind?” He murmured, glancing up at her.

Ellie nudged her fingers up under his chin to draw him into a tender kiss. “I don’t think you have it in you, darling.”

Jacob trembled at the earnestness of her voice, pressing kisses along her collarbones and chest. “For you, at least…” His mouth drew down over the slope of her chest, teasing over her nipple before drawing it into his mouth. His touch was practiced, knowing the intricacies of her body nearly as well as he knew his own, by now—a hand pressed against her thigh, drawing along the shape of it. Pressing it up against her mound, he stroked his fingers along the crease of her folds.

Ellie’s fingers flexed against his skin, nails digging in just a little as she whimpered out his name like a prayer. He nudged her chin with his fingers, calling for her attention, which she readily gave.

“Lie back on the corner of the lounge there—legs open for me,” he purred.

“Jacob…?” She looked at him, perplexed, and he smiled.

“On our own terms, sweetheart,” he reminded her. “Let me have this.”

A beat of silence passed, and she nodded as she stood, though her face flushed with heat. “If it would please you…”

Jacob watched with tender desire as she settled herself as he’d asked. Licking his lips, he leaned into the curve of her throat to let his mouth ghost along her pulse. “Nothing pleases me more than hearing you moan and cry for me.”

Ellie’s breath hitched, and he kissed her then, over and over until she was trembling with desire. Jacob drew his kisses down her chest and the plane of her belly as he settled on the floor, kneeling between her splayed thighs.

Smoothing his hands over her bare legs, he glanced up at her with a heartsick expression. “Such a pretty thing,” he teased her. She giggled as she carded her fingers through his hair, and he leaned into her knee, drawing kisses up to the tender juncture of her groin. The longing in his expression wasn’t lost on her, nor was the want. She held her breath as his one hand spread her open, and he delved in hungrily. Lips and tongue teased and stroked along the length of her folds, and Ellie’s thighs trembled as loud moans tumbled out of her, fingers tightening in his hair.

He let out a delighted groan of his own, his mouth making wet, lewd sounds as he carried on. Pleasure pooled in her belly, spreading out over her nerves as she whined out his name in a half-formed moan. Breathless, she clutched his shoulder, fingers tracking along his pale skin as she turned her gaze down to watch him. The desperate, helpless look in her eyes caught him off guard as a wave of pleasure roiled through his core.

“Damn you,” he gritted out. Laving his tongue over her clit, he closed his lips around the flushed nub, suckling on it until she squirmed and cried out, squeezing at the nape of his neck. Jacob groaned against slick flesh, holding her gaze as he worked over her with his mouth, heat flooding his cheeks as she urged him on with breathless praise, her hips canting desperately against his attention.

He growled low in his throat, hooking one arm over her hips to hold her down, his hand sliding over the plane of her belly to caress the tense muscles. His free hand came up between her legs, fingers slipping past her labia to tease at her entrance. She bit her lip and nodded with a quiet whimper of encouragement—Jacob hummed as he slid a finger into her heat. Ellie groaned out a loud curse in a rush of breath, her head falling back against the cushions.

Jacob chuckled as he nibbled at the crease of her groin. “Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” He purred, nuzzling her mons. Ellie could only nod insistently with a low whine of agreement, sending tremors of pleasure rippling through Jacob’s core.

“More,” she whispered. “Please, more, Jacob…” She managed to eke out her request between gasps, and Jacob’s skin pricked with heat again.

  
Cursing beneath his breath, he continued his efforts as he sank a second finger in. Her free hand found his on her belly, fingers twining together as if it were second nature to them—and it was. Jacob’s stomach fluttered as he squeezed at her, turning his gaze up on her again—her eyes were wet and distant, lost in the bliss of his touch. He hummed in delight, curling his fingers up into the tender spot inside of her.

Ellie let out a stuttering wail as her head fell into the cushions again, the arch of her back sharp as it rose from the settee. Her walls twitched and flexed around his fingers as she cried for him to go on.

“ _Please_ ,” she begged, her breaths pitched and staggered. The sound of her desperate wailing spurred Jacob to work her faster, squeezing her hand again as his tempo increased. The frenetic twitching of her walls informed him of her impending climax, and so he pressed ever further, closer and closer to the precipice.

Ellie’s breath caught in her throat and her body went rigid as her orgasm rushed over her. With a stuttering cry, her back arched up off the lounge as she came, her body shaking and writhing in the throes of her passion. His grip on her hip tightened as he held her still, his mouth and fingers drawing her pleasure out.

She clutched desperately at his hand twined up in hers as her hips continued to twitch and quake, her thighs desperately trying to close up around him. He didn’t let up on her until she was whimpering, pushing at his head and shoulders with her free hand. He kept their fingers tangled as he slowly leaned back, easing his other hand out from between her trembling thighs.

“What a gorgeous thing you are,” he murmured in hushed awe, leaning in to press wet, languid kisses along her folds and inner thighs. She let out a shaky laugh, her body squirming with each stroke of his lips and tongue. The fingers of her free hand played through his hair, stroking over his temples and the shape of his cheekbones.

“And you, Mister Frye?” She teased breathlessly, nudging the bridge of her foot up against the underside of his cock. “Surely you don’t intend to leave it at this?”

Jacob’s breath stuttered as his hips moved against the friction of her touch, and he chuckled as he pressed a final kiss to her folds. Bracing his grip on the back of the lounge, he loomed over her to press long, deep kisses against her mouth, letting her chase the last vestiges of herself on his tongue. Ellie put her arms around his neck, sighing as they paused, sweat-dappled foreheads touching briefly before she found his gaze again.

“How do you want me, darling? Like this?” She whispered, spreading her legs wider around the girth of his torso. Jacob shook his head briefly before he sat back into the settee. His hand curled around his length, slowly stroking as his free hand drifted along her calf. He beckoned her towards him, and after a moment—once she’d caught her breath—she obliged him, straddling his thighs once more.

“Like this,” Jacob murmured, leaning up to tease his lips against hers. “Ride me.”

Heat pooled into her belly at the low, sultry hum of his voice, and she couldn’t help the soft sound of her giggle. Brushing his hand away, she curled her own fingers around his girth, moving in languid strokes. He let out a stuttering sigh and bit his lip, fingers gripping fitfully at the curve of her hips. Finding her gaze, the raw heat and desire that boiled just beneath the surface of her expression made his skin pill into goosebumps.

The question was unspoken as she licked her lips, and Jacob nodded his assent, thighs trembling with anticipation. He couldn’t help the staggered groan that slipped out as he felt her heat engulf him, her own expression slowly crumbling as she sank down into his lap. Jacob quickly put his arms around her torso, pressing his face into the curve of her chest, a string of breathless praise and curses escaping him.

Ellie didn’t wait to begin finding a rhythm, her hips already moving before Jacob had finished swearing. He cursed louder, gripping at the curve of her ass as she rode him, slow and steady.

“Yes, like that, sweetheart,” he stammered. Ellie took his face in her hands, drawing him into hungry kisses. The pace of her movements slowly increased, and Jacob’s own were measured, carefully matching each thrust.

She cursed as he bucked up a little harder, making her jolt in surprise. A hand slipped between them, his thumb stroking over the hard nub of her clit as he nestled into the crook of her shoulder, another string of pleading whispers tumbling out of him. The warmth of his breath against her skin made waves of pleasure roil through her core.

“Go on, love,” she purred, nipping at the sensitive flesh of his earlobe. “Tell me what you want.”

“You already know what I want,” he stuttered, teeth digging into the curve of her throat. “I told you a dozen times…”

His fingers dug into the supple flesh of her ass as he guided her a little more quickly, his own thrusts finding a faster rhythm. She cursed loudly, her breath hitching on a moan as she grabbed onto the settee behind him, trying to steady herself.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he purred, grazing his teeth over the dip of her collarbone. “Come undone for me.”

She cried as she rutted against him, their kisses clumsy and fumbling. Her orgasm rushed over her in a wave, spilling out from her core as her arms wound tightly around him. Tucking in close, he shuddered beneath her as the frenetic twitching of her walls pulled him ever closer to his own end— _but not yet_.

Oh, he was close—impossibly close—but he was determined to drag her pleasure out again. When she had come down enough that her chest heaved a little less, she raised her hips to let him slip out of her. Settling into his lap, she curled her fingers around him with slow, even strokes. Jacob’s hips moved into her touch, his own hand slipping up between her legs to brush his thumb over the swollen bud of her clit. She whined as her hips bucked towards him, and he hummed as he shifted in his seat to plant his feet firmly into the floor. When she looked to him again, her eyes were wet and her expression sombre. His heart squeezed in his chest, even as heat rippled out from his core while she continued to stroke him.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he urged her, hands drifting up along her sides. “Once more.” Her skin turned to gooseflesh beneath his touch, and her expression remained contrite as she lifted her hips, slowly sinking down onto him again.

They let out a resounding moan as her hips settled low. Jacob grabbed at her as she began moving again, trembling beneath her as he bit his lip. “Easy, love,” he whispered, taking a firm grasp of her. “It’s my turn.”

She looked perplexed for only a moment, a mixture of shock and delight overtaking her features as Jacob pressed in deep, holding her fast as he ground his hips up against her. Cursing beneath her breath, she chased his lips with soft whispers of affection and praise, cradling his face with one hand as the other braced on the back of the settee. She let him guide her hips, the heat in her core blooming out over her frayed nerves as she rode him.

The frenetic twitching of her walls around him signaled another impending climax, and he purred as he sank his teeth into the exposed skin of her throat. She groaned loudly as her eyes rolled back, and he slipped one hand between them, rubbing demanding circles over the aching bud of her clit.

“ _Please_ ,” she begged him, her fingers grappling at the fabric of the settee.

He coaxed her down into a slow, hungry kiss as he guided her hips against his, pushing in hard and deep on each thrust. “Come on, sweetheart. Come undone for me. Once more, love. I know you can.”

Ellie cursed as she cried, but nodded frantically, chasing the burning ache knotted up in her belly. When the tightly wound coil finally snapped again, her body went rigid and her body clenched so hard it nearly ached as she milked him. The frantic heat of her pulsing walls dragged his own pleasure out not a moment later. His chest heaved as his cock twitched inside of her, and he held her still atop him.

“There we are,” he purred, breathless and trembling. “That’s my girl…”

As she raised her hips to let him slip out of her body, Ellie pressed her forehead against his with a quiet whimper. Jacob closed the distance, and heat roiled between them as their mouths made love as feverishly as their bodies had only moments earlier. When they were forced to pause for air, both breathless and trembling, Jacob reached to cradle her cheek, his expression warm and fond as he regarded her.

“I bloody love you,” he whispered against her mouth. “Always…” A beat of silence passed between them as he nuzzled her cheek, fingers tracing along her spine. “I know it’s not forever, but God, I’ll miss you…”

The ache of her impending departure flooded back to the forefront of her thoughts, and pain squeezed in her chest. “Oh…” The sound was like a sigh of defeat, and her anguish was palpable.

Jacob made a soft, soothing noise as he wrapped his arms around her more snugly, pulling her in and pressing gentle, insistent kisses against her mouth. He still felt the heat of her tears as they fell, and tried to soothe her with soft whispers and gentle touches.

_I’ll miss you_. The words passed through him again, and his brow furrowed as an ache welled up in his guts. _It’s only a few months_ , he reminded himself, but couldn’t force back the grimace that overcame his expression— _that’s what we both said last time…_

The sudden memory of their last night together in Crawley made raw anxiety rise up in his throat, and he barely managed to swallow it down. She took one of his hands and twined their fingers together, drawing it up to press soft kisses across his knuckles and the back of his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Jacob.” Ellie’s meek voice broke the strained silence.

“Oh?” He tried to come across as jovial, but the tremble in his voice gave him away. “What for, sweetheart?” They regarded each other for a long moment, and Jacob’s chest hurt for the tears in her eyes.

“I never meant to leave you behind,” she finally whispered, voice trembling. This wasn’t just about Paris, anymore—it never really was.

Jacob hushed her as he thumbed over the plump swell of her lips. She looked at him with furrowed brows, and he couldn’t remember a time when he’d seen her look so contrite and remorseful. Squeezing her eyes shut, she pressed her face into the hollow of his shoulder.

Jacob could hear as much as feel the heat of her sobs against his skin, breathless and aching. Tension rippled through his limbs, her disquiet seeping into him. “Come now, love,” he cooed, hand stroking through her hair and over the back of her neck. “What’s this about? What’s got you so upset, all of a sudden?”

“All of a sudden…” Ellie let out a broken laugh, wiping feebly at her eyes. “Everything is so raw… it’s so much like that last night in Crawley.” A beat passed between them, the tension almost electric. “Do you feel it, too?”

After a pause, Jacob nodded, his cheeks flushing as he glanced away. As Ellie wiped at her tears, Jacob coaxed her down into a slow kiss. _It feels too much like that night, and I don’t want to think about it…_

“I looked at you, and I thought… how can I do this again?” Ellie’s voice cut through the quiet. “My duty to the Brotherhood has outweighed and outmatched so many things in my life, including my happiness, and my love for you…”

Jacob regarded her, and the angry, bitter expression on her face. When she didn’t speak, he nudged her chin, calling her name softly.

“I can’t bear it again, Jacob… let me be selfish, this time. Please.” She leaned her forehead against his, winding her arms snugly around him. “ _Please…_ ”

The desperate sound of her begging made him ache for her. _What are you asking me, sweetheart?_ Bewildered, he coaxed her into soft, insistent kisses. She let herself be overtaken, the tension slowly draining from her limbs, though the tightness in her chest remained. When they finally paused, he remained quiet, waiting for her to speak.

She sniffled, looking away as she wiped at the last of her tears. Jacob turned her face back, thumbing over the shape of her cheekbone, and down the curve of her lips, regarding her with a sad but fond expression.

She leaned forward and left an aching kiss against his mouth. “I won’t,” she whispered, finally.

“You won’t what, sweetheart?”

He sounded so perplexed—so lost—that Ellie couldn’t help her laugh. Jacob could feel the way she had suddenly relaxed in his arms as she kissed him. It was different, like the melancholy had gone from her. Finally, she drew in a deep breath.

“I won’t leave you behind, Jacob. Not again.”

Jacob’s heart leapt into his throat. His mind raced as he briefly debated whether he should argue with her, but her begging suddenly made sense— _let me be selfish_. He swallowed, trembling with nervous energy as his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Are you certain?” His voice was so meek, it was hardly there. Ellie knew candidly that he wasn’t really arguing.

She nodded. “I’m certain.”

A beat passed as Jacob’s brow furrowed. “What about—”

Ellie hushed him, touching her fingers to his lips. “I’ll take care of the rest. But I won’t go. I won’t.”

Silence fell between them as the tension returned to her body. Jacob squeezed at her sides, trying to draw her attention, but she let out a quiet sob as angry tears began falling anew. “I’m sorry, Jacob. I’m so, so sorry…”

He silenced her with his mouth, pressing insistent kisses against her lips. “Stop,” he begged her between breaths. “Please, stop…”

She sighed as she let him overtake her once more. “I won’t leave you behind again,” she whispered feverishly between kisses. “Never. Not unless you send me away.” There was a hitch in her breath as she paused. “Please don’t send me away…”

Jacob felt a rush of anxiety well up in his chest and he shook his head— _why would I ever do that?_ “Never,” he whispered fiercely. Again and again, he kissed her, trying to soothe the ache that stirred between them. “I’ll never send you anywhere. Not without me.”

The catharsis of her sigh was palpable, and Jacob could feel the tension draining from his own limbs as easily as it seemed to drain from hers. “Promise me,” she murmured, gaze lidded and distant. Jacob found her hand and curled his pinky around hers—she was quick to reciprocate. He smiled fondly as he twisted to lock them together.

“I promise, Ellie,” he whispered. “You and I will always be together.”

Ellie’s smile was sweet and genuine, and Jacob couldn’t help but mirror it as she wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a tight squeeze. Several long minutes passed as they relished each other’s company.

It was Jacob who spoke first, his mouth curled up in a devilishly cheeky smile. “Perhaps the parting gift was a little premature,” he murmured.

Ellie giggled as she kissed him once, giving him another squeeze. “Consider it a preemptive apology present, then,” she replied.

Jacob grinned. “Apology accepted.”

Ellie really laughed at that. “You are truly magnificent, Jacob Frye,” she murmured, nudging his nose with her own.

“Oh? I’m glad you agree,” he teased.

Ellie laughed again as she drew herself in to bury her face into his shoulder. “I love you,” she whispered. She felt as much as she heard the pleased rumble in his chest as he pressed a flurry of feather-soft kisses against her neck.

“I love you, too. More than anything, sweetheart.”

After another beat passed, Ellie coaxed Jacob to lay down on the settee. He gladly followed, tucking her in against his chest as he wrapped her up snugly in his arms. Tugging the blanket off the back of the chair, they stayed like that for some time, basking in their afterglow and unexpected relief.

Slowly, Jacob’s fingers began to drift along her sides, making her squirm and giggle. He smiled, humming as he kissed the top of her hair. “My girl…” he sighed, drawing his kisses down her face, and over the curve of her jaw. Leaving her flat on her back, he sat up to look at her. She let her hands fall beside her head, drawing a knee up along his side. His fingertips trailed down her throat, over the shape of her collarbones, and down the center of her chest.

“My gorgeous girl, covered in all these lovely speckles… like a map of the stars,” he murmured, fondness and affection dripping from his words.

Ellie rolled her eyes and snorted, even as heat flooded her cheeks. “Jacob, please. Spare me.”

Jacob smiled as he slid his fingers up her belly, drawing his thumb over her scar. “Such a glorious thing, you are,” he murmured. His brow knit as he found her gaze, expression aching. “And still here, too, just for me.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest as she regarded him. “And you, for me?”

Jacob smiled as he leaned down, pressing kiss after kiss against her lips. “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, please leave me a comment to let me know! It makes my day every time, and helps motivate me to continue writing! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡


	15. Ransom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Evie and Ellie research precursor leads, Jacob tries to go it alone at rooting out Templars. Things don’t go according to plan.

Evie glanced up at her brother as he entered the carriage. “I didn’t expect to see you today, Jacob.”

“Don’t worry, I’m just on my way out,” Jacob replied, coming to stand behind Ellie. “I just stopped by to see my girl, first.”

Ellie smiled as she set her papers down. “Where are you off to, darling?”

“Jonathan left me a note in my carriage,” he answered. “He’s asked me to meet him near Blackburn Steel Mill, in Southwark. We’ve been investigating the area, trying to find the last of the Blighter’s safehouses, and he thinks he’s found something that may lead us to it.”

“Oh?” Ellie’s interest was clearly piqued. “What’s he found?”

“He didn’t say,” Jacob replied with a shrug. “Anyway, I stopped by to see out if you’d like to come with me.”

Ellie stood as she crossed her arms. “Jonathan is usually more thorough. He really didn’t say what he’s found that might help? A nest, a contact—anything?”

Her look of concern wasn’t lost on him. “I know,” he agreed. “But we’re trying to root out the remaining Templar influence in Southwark—every piece of information that crosses our path is vital, no matter how sparse.” He threw a snide glance towards his sister. “At least I’m out _doing_ something, and not cooped up in a train carriage, _reading_.”

“It’s _research_ , Jacob,” Evie bit back.

Jacob rolled his eyes. “Yes, of course, because research will kill Templars.”

Evie bristled, but Ellie placed herself between the twins. “Jacob, stop it,” she insisted, putting a hand against his chest as she leveled him with a stern look. “Finding the Piece of Eden is just as important as direct action against the Templars. We need to find the artifact to stop it from falling into their hands, and we can’t find it without looking into the leads we have.”

Jacob flustered, but also looked a little affronted. “Don’t tell me you’re taking her side…”

Ellie rolled her eyes as she sighed. “We’re a team, Jacob—all of us. We’re all on the _same side_. But it’s not about ‘sides’ right now—I made a promise to Evie that I’d help her,” she chided him. “I’m concerned, though, that your lead is an unknown. It’s hardly a lead at all. Couldn’t you ask Jonathan to give you more details before you go running off on a wild goose chase?”

Jacob sighed. “I know I should, but if we don’t root them out quickly, they’ll go to ground and dig in their heels. They’ve been eluding us this long, but this is the last of them—I’m certain of it.” He paused as if he were considering her suggestion, then shook his head. “We’re too close, Ellie—I don’t want to risk it.”

Ellie closed her fingers around his forearm. “Then be cautious, darling. I’m not comfortable with you going off alone like this with such sparse information, but I can’t go with you to watch your back, so I’ll have to trust you to watch your own…”

Jacob could see the concern in her features, as well as the disappointment—she wanted to go with him, but she also wasn’t willing to break her promise to Evie. He couldn’t help his smile, as exasperated as it was fond.

“I understand, sweetheart,” he mumbled, thumbing along her jaw. “I’ll try not to have too much fun on my own.” He tipped her up to give her a soft kiss.

She grabbed at his arms as she leaned up on her toes. “ _Please_ be cautious, Jacob. I don’t feel right sending you off alone like this… not with how aggressive the Blighters have been, lately.”

“That’s how we know we’ve got them on the defensive,” Jacob chuckled, leaving a final kiss against her forehead. “But don’t worry about me, love—I’m always cautious.”

Evie scoffed, and Ellie snorted out a laugh, smoothing her hands over Jacob’s lapels. “Yes, so very cautious. That’s how you managed to let thieves steal the printing plates from the Bank of England after you killed Twopenny, is it?”

Jacob cleared his throat gruffly as he squirmed beneath Ellie’s gaze. “I’ll be careful, Ellie. I promise,” he mumbled, clearly mollified as he stuck his pinky out towards her.

Ellie’s expression softened, and she curled her pinky around his. “Go on, then,” she mumbled, leaning up to leave a kiss on the bridge of his nose.

Jacob glanced at his sister with a cheeky smile. “Have fun.”

Evie rolled her eyes fondly as she waved him off. “Don’t die.”

* * *

As the hours waned on and the sun began to dip towards the western horizon, Ellie and Evie made their way into the dining car— _there’s only so much research one can do on an empty stomach_ , Evie had said. Agnes prepared them some tea and simple sandwiches, and they sat chatting about their leads, and how to follow up on what they’d found.

A gaggle of Rooks entered the carriage as they were nearing the end of their pot, among them Daniel and Mary, and most curiously, Jonathan. The two Assassins exchanged brief glances, and Ellie watched the blonde man with a critical eye, waiting until he was seated at the booth table across from them.

“Oh, Jonathan,” she called to him.

He turned his attention readily towards her. “Yes, Miss Blair?”

“Do you happen to know where Jacob went after your meeting with him in Southwark this afternoon?” She asked.

Jonathan’s brow furrowed, and he looked perplexed. “I didn’t meet with the boss this aft, Miss. Me and the boys‘ve been near the Old Vic all day, and haven’t seen him.”

“In Lambeth?” Ellie’s brows rose, and she looked to Evie, whose own expression had darkened. Turning back to him, she looked concerned. “Jacob told us he was to meet with you at Blackburn Steel Mill, in Southwark. You had left him a note mentioning you had some information that might lead us to the last of the Blighter safehouses…”

Jonathan shook his head, looking utterly bewildered. “No, mum, I ain’t left him any notes—on my honour, I ain’t seen the boss for a few days, at least.”

Ellie and Evie exchanged worried glances, and both seemed to have the same thought as they stood—something was wrong. Evie muttered about Jacob not listening to sense as she shrugged on her overcoat, and with a quick exchange of departing pleasantries, they hurried out.

* * *

Arriving at the steel mill, they found the yard was empty—the mill appeared to have been abandoned some time ago, which further worried them. Old footprints and cart tracks led off in several directions in dried mud, but all of it was too old to be of use. Ellie could tell by the careful way that Evie moved, she was scoping the area with her Sight. Approaching the tall doors that led into the factory, Ellie knelt to pick up the chain strewn on the ground.

“Do you suppose your brother did this?” She asked, trying to be playful. Evie hurried over to her, looking at the lock on the ground. It had been bashed open, and recently, as suggested by the lack of dust or other debris around it. Evie hummed, and with a heaving groan, the two women pushed open the large doors. Birds fluttered overhead as they moved inward.

There were several sets of footprints in the dirt, so Ellie pressed her senses to find Jacob. “He was here,” she said. “How long ago, I can’t be sure, but these are his footprints.”

Evie snorted, following along the tracks with her. “Why do you know how big my brother’s feet are?”

Ellie laughed dryly. “I’m certain you already know the answer, Evie.” She stopped short as the tracks came to an abrupt stop, and were replaced by blood and spittle smeared in the dirt, and clear signs of a struggle. She swallowed, chest squeezing with anxiety as she looked to Evie, whose brow was furrowed.

“An ambush?” Evie crouched down, as if getting closer to the dirt would help her discern what had happened.

“If I had to guess,” Ellie muttered, fingers flexing restlessly at her sides. “ _Damn it_. I knew I should have come with him.”

“Hush, Ellie,” Evie chided her as she stood. “Whoever it was that took Jacob down would likely have taken you out, too. At a guess, they didn’t come unarmed, but more than that, they would have had to come in great number.”

She scowled, but Evie patted her shoulder gently. “What is it you’ve always said to us? I can’t change what happened, I can only do better next time?”

Ellie’s shoulders slumped, clearly mollified as she turned back to the scuffed dirt. Focusing her Sight again, she tried to find the remnants of what happened. Instead, she found something else—behind a broad support beam nearby, a small form crouched out of plain view. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

“I see you there in the shadows.” The sound of her voice made Evie jump, and she saw the figure jolt in surprise, as well. “Come out.”

Her tone had been commanding, and brooked no argument. She saw the top of a head poke out from the side of the beam, and then a young boy, not older than twelve, appeared.

Ellie waited, hands firmly on her hips. He approached with measured caution, no matter how nonplussed he tried to seem, and left a good deal of space between himself and the women—enough for him to make a break if he felt threatened, Ellie noticed.

He paused some paces away from her, his cap clutched tightly in his fingers.

“Did you see what happened here?” Ellie asked.

The boy glanced at the dirt briefly, then met her gaze. “I may have… who’s askin’?”

Ellie narrowed her eyes briefly, then breathed a short sigh through her nose. “Ellie Blair. And you are?”

The boy sniffed as he glanced between the two women. “I’m Tom…” He cleared his throat. “Thomas Little, miss…”

“Pleased to meet you, Tom,” Ellie replied with a nod. “Now, can you tell us what happened here?”

“We’re looking for my brother,” Evie added, as if to explain their questioning. “He was supposed to meet a friend of ours here this afternoon, but it seems he’s gone missing…”

Tom glanced at the dirt again, then looked back up at Evie. The elder woman stuck her hand out towards him. “Evie Frye, by the way.”

Tom’s brows raised at that, and he looked between them. “Yeah, I saw what happened. Them’s that took your friend told me to hand this over to ‘Miss Evie Frye’ when she came lookin’ for her brother,” he said, digging into his pockets.

The two women grew tense—but what could a twelve year old really do to them?—until he withdrew a sealed piece of folded parchment.

“Here,” he said, thrusting it towards Evie.

“What’s this?” She asked as she took it

Tom shrugged. “It weren’t for me, so I ain’t opened it. I don’t know what it says…”

Ellie exchanged a look with her friend, then turned back to the boy. “So, you saw what happened?”

“Aye. Your friend came in here, callin’ out for someone. When he got in here, a bunch of blokes in red started piling in from all over—seemed like way too many men for just him, but after seein’ him fight, I can see why they did.”

Ellie hummed. “And what were you doing in here, Tom? Were you with these lads in red?”

Tom looked offended. “No, miss. Them blokes used to use this place to store supplies. Me and my lads would sometimes come through to skim a little off the top.”

Evie raised a brow. “Do you know you’ve been stealing from Crawford Starrick?”

Tom sneered as he wiped at his nose again. “What do I care? Ain’t never been caught before today, and who’s gonna miss a few bullets or metal scraps? Ain’t like we ever stole anythin’ important, so I ain’t hurtin’ no rich man’s purse. And even if I was, he’s a proper gash, that one, and probably deserves it, anyway.”

Ellie snickered at his irreverent tone, then nodded towards him. “What happened after the men came?”

Tom looked back at Ellie. “They took your friend down. Looked like he almost had ‘em at one point, but they had numbers, and brass knuckles and chains. He didn’t go down without a fight though, Miss,” he assured her.

Ellie winced. “Where did they take him?” Tom wiped at his nose, his expression turning to a scowl, but he didn’t answer. “Did they pay you?” He shook his head.

A beat.

“Did they threaten you?”

Tom didn’t speak, but his expression did it for him. Ellie nodded sagely, a thousand questions bubbling up before dying on her tongue. “Was he alive when they took him?”

The softness with which she asked the question seemed to startle him, but he nodded. “He weren’t dead, miss. They was proper mean to him, but he was still breathin’ when they took him…”

Ellie swallowed as she nodded. “I see. Have you any family, Tom? Someone who can keep you safe?”

The boy shrugged. “Not really. It’s just me and my older brother, Reggie…”

“Where are your parents?” Evie put in.

Tom’s expression soured as he looked away. “Pa left us, and Mum died of cholera…”

Ellie glanced to Evie briefly before she turned back to Tom. Crouching down, she beckoned him forward. He looked briefly apprehensive, then came a few paces closer.

She reached and took his hand, pressing a shilling into his palm. “Did you see which direction they went?”

“West, miss,” he whispered in shock. Another shilling, and his eyes grew wider.

“Did you hear them say anything else when they left? What their plans were, where they were taking him—anything at all?”

Tom seemed to wrack his brains, head bowed as his eyes flitted about. “They said somethin’ about a warehouse near Clare Market, but I didn’t hear nothin’ else, miss. I’m sorry.”

Ellie shook her head, pushing another four shillings into his hand. “Where is your brother now?”

“He’s at his job at the ironworks, not far from here. Is he safe, do you think?”

“I don’t know, Tom. Do you know your letters?” She asked, reaching into her pocket again. Tom nodded. “Good lad. Take this, and go straight home. Don’t talk to anyone, don’t tell anyone what you saw. Once your brother comes home, take a carriage to The Cut straight away. Look for the men in green jackets, and give them this. Tell them I sent you—we’ll keep you safe.”

A beat.

“Do you understand?”

Tom stared at the coins and calling card in his hand for a long minute, then closed his fist around them. He looked between the two women briefly, nodded, and then dashed out of the warehouse. Once he was gone, Ellie let out a defeated sigh as she turned towards Evie.

“Do you really think he’s in danger?” Evie asked.

Ellie shrugged. “I don’t know, Evie, but I’ve seen enough from these bastards to be concerned.”

“He might just take the money you gave him and run, too,” the elder girl commented.

Ellie rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “That’s his prerogative, Evie. I gave him an option—it’s up to him to decide which path to take.” A beat passed. “And it’s up to us to make sure he remains free to do so. What does that document say?”

Evie hummed, then lifted the parchment in her hand. “Let’s have a look, shall we?” She said, breaking the wax seal and unfolding the paper.

_To the inglorious Miss Evie Frye,_

_It should behoove you to attend the warehouse at Old Pye Street and Duck Lane in Westminster borough with all of your accumulated research materials and information relating to the precursors and their artifacts. You will deliver the requested goods alone._

_In exchange, we shall return your brother, Mister Jacob Frye, into your charge. We do not feel the need to express that expedience should be considered of utmost importance, in order to avoid anything untoward occurring to Mister Frye’s person._

_Most Cordially,_

_Lilla Graves_

“Lilla Graves,” Ellie sniffed. “She’s the head gang leader in Westminster, no?”

Evie nodded. “Based on the information Henry has, yes.”

There was a pause as the two women squinted at the paper, focusing their Sight to look for hidden clues. Finding none, Ellie stepped back to look at her friend.

“So then, we’re assuming this is a honeypot, yes?”

Evie snorted. “Of course. Their language may have been oddly pleasant, but the fact that this is a trap should go without saying.”

A beat.

“I don’t see why they’re demanding the precursor knowledge _now_ ,” she muttered. “Lucy Thorne is dead, and I’m certain they don’t have anyone else who is as knowledgeable as she was.”

“Aside from Starrick himself,” Ellie commented. “This sort of extortion isn’t his usual style, though. So, either he’s gotten that desperate, or his people have. Either way, I’m not about to leave Jacob in their hands, but I don’t trust Westminster to have our answers, either.”

There was a pause as they both glanced between each other and the letter, and Ellie crossed her arms. “I think we should follow up on Tom’s lead and head to The Strand. Beyond Southwark, these are their last bastions of power in the city, and if they’re desperate enough to kick the hornet’s nest while we have the upper hand, then they’re more likely to make mistakes.”

“Like mentioning Clare Market while a little boy is within earshot?” Evie asked, a little incredulous. “I know they’re prone to foolishness, but I have a hard time believing that The Strand won’t be a honeypot, as well.”

A beat of silence passed between them, and Ellie placed her hands on her hips. “Then what do you suggest we do, Evie? We have to do _something_ , and right now, I think The Strand is our best bet. At least more so than Westminster.”

Evie considered her for a moment, then winced. “I think we should seek aid,” she replied.

Ellie eyed her warily. “Go on…”

“I mean I think that for now, you and I should return to the train to regroup, and consider our next actions carefully. All we know for certain is that _someone_ has Jacob, and he’s probably been hurt. We don’t know where he’s been taken, or even where to start looking—“

“Tom _said_ they mentioned a warehouse near Clare Market. So, we go to The Strand—simple.”

“No, not ‘simple’, Ellie,” Evie insisted. “We’ve no idea if Tom heard right, or if Jacob will even be there.”

“There may be men there who _do_ know where Jacob is,” Ellie shot back. “ _Please_ , Evie, we have to do _something_.”

Evie’s expression pinched slightly. “Don’t mistake my caution for indifference, Ellie. Jacob is _my_ brother. I want to find him as much as you do, but we need to exercise caution. Too much haste is too little speed.”

Ellie visibly bristled at her friend’s tone, but forced herself to swallow her anger. “Then what do you suggest we do, Miss Frye?”

“For now, I think we should put out word to the Rooks that Jacob is missing, and have the urchins keep their ears to the ground, and listen for any news of his potential whereabouts. You and I will return to the train, and gather up our precursor research—“

“ _Evie!_ ” Ellie interjected. “You’re being absurd! If you want to go back to the train to regroup, fine. We can gather Henry and have him call on his contacts for aid, but you and I both know that giving up our precursor knowledge is a fool’s errand. You wish to speak of sense and caution while endangering everything that we’ve worked so hard to secure? Truly?”

Tense silence passed between them, and Evie looked to her friend.

“Very well. And what is your suggestion, Miss Blair?”

“Go to The Strand. Search for leads there. Go to Clare Market, if necessary—that is their stronghold in the borough, so it couldn’t hurt to poke around.” A beat, and Ellie took Evie’s hand imploringly. “ _Please_ , darling. A few hours is all I ask. If we don’t find anything useful, then we’ll do as you suggest and return to the train. What do you say?”

Evie sighed as she squeezed Ellie’s hand, and finally nodded. “Alright. It’s half seven now, so we’ll search until eleven. If we haven’t found anything of use, you and I shall return to the train, and start fresh in the morning.”

Ellie nodded in kind. “Very well. Shall we?” She said, motioning back towards the open doorway.

“Let’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, please leave me a comment to let me know! It makes my day every time, and helps motivate me to continue writing! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡


	16. Chase & Pursue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie and Evie pursue their targets, in search of the missing Jacob.

The streets of the borough were still alive and bustling with activity. Their shifts over, some workers attended the pubs, while others trudged home; there were food vendors still peddling wares from their carts, and the more well-dressed gentlefolk moved along the promenade towards theatres and restaurants, or climbed in and out of carriages. Stood together at the corner of the Strand’s thoroughfare, the two women pretended to look over the letter again. Evie leaned in close.

“Shall we split up? Cover more ground?”

Ellie shook her head. “No. The Blighters may not know we’ve received their letter yet, but they certainly know it exists, so they’re likely to be on the lookout for us.” There was a pause as they both saw two red jackets emerge from a pub. The women carefully slunk into the shadows as Ellie continued.

“As much as I would like to cover more ground, I recognise the need for caution in our approach, here—we can’t very well find Jacob if one or both of us are hurt or captured while looking for him. Considering what Tom had to say about what they did to Jacob, I imagine they’d treat us the same, if not worse.”

“Very astute of you, Miss Blair,” Evie teased, pinching her side. “It seems time has tempered you.”

Ellie gently batted her hand away, then nodded towards the two red jackets as they meandered down the street. “Shall we tail them? See if they lead us somewhere worthwhile?”

Evie nodded, linking arms with Ellie as they crossed the street towards the boardwalk. It was best to put on airs of promenading together in more public spaces. Using the crowds to hide their presence, they moved slowly. The two red jackets kept to the main streets for some blocks, heading west before they slipped down a narrow alley. One of the men stopped at a dark stoop just beyond the mouth of the alley, and they exchanged pleasantries.

Evie sighed in disappointment. “They’re just going home?”

Ellie narrowed her eyes as they continued on further into the slum. “Maybe that one was, but this one seems to be walking with too much purpose. He’s either heading for another pub, or going somewhere else entirely.”

“My guess is another pub,” Evie muttered sorely, and Ellie hushed her gently.

“There’s nothing to say we can’t stop at the pub with our new friend and ask him a few questions,” Ellie put in.

“If we do that—” Evie didn’t get to finish her thought as a small wooden crate clattered to the ground. Both of them froze, and quickly glanced towards their mark, who had looked over his shoulder. A split second of panic crossed his features, and he darted.

Ellie cursed as she took off after him, Evie hot on her heels. The alleyways were mostly free of foot traffic at this hour—it was still too early for people to be going home from the pubs—which made it easier for him to manoeuvre the streets.

He had a significant lead on the two of them, but Ellie was faster, and gaining. The Blighter purposely knocked down a stack of barrels as he passed through an especially narrow alley, trying to block their path. Ellie grabbed a discarded bottle as she vaulted the barrels, whipping it forward as her feet made purchase.

The glass struck hard into the back of the man’s knee, and he went crashing to the ground with a shout. Within a beat Ellie was upon him, twisting his arm up behind his back as she dug her knee into his spine.

“And how are we this evening?” She huffed, catching her breath. The young man beneath her squirmed and thrashed, but couldn’t escape her weight, or the iron grip of her hands.

“Let me go!” He demanded, righteous indignation in his voice. Ellie’s smile was tight as she shook her head.

“Oh, no, I’m afraid I can’t do that just yet,” she replied. “After all, you saw us and ran, so you must know why we’re here.”

“I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’!” He shouted. Evie caught up then, and Ellie sighed at his outburst.

“I haven’t asked you any questions.”

“No, but you was about to, ‘ey?” He shot back. Ellie’s eyes narrowed as she dug her knee in a little harder.

“That’s very astute of you. I’d like to make this easy for both of us, so I’ll let you up. If you run again, I’ll cut your Achilles—” She paused and flexed her left wrist, the telltale _snikt_ of her blade popping out for effect. “Are we clear?”

The young man beneath her stilled briefly, and then nodded. She lifted her knee first, and then crawled to her feet, letting go of his arm. Evie took a cautious step back, and Ellie flexed her wrist to put away her blade, waiting for the youth to clamber to pick himself up. His shoulders grew tense, and he rounded on her with an angry shout.

She knocked his fist away and countered him with a left hook. Grabbing him by the throat while he was dazed, she slammed him into the wall of the building next to them.

“Now, now,” she scolded. “Didn’t I say I wanted to make this easy?”

“I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’!” He repeated. Both women rolled their eyes.

“You don’t even know what we’re going to ask you about,” Evie sighed, audibly disappointed. It was an act, of course, but—

“You’re going to ask about your man—that Frye fellow. I ain’t squealin’, so don’t even try it!” He flinched as he saw Ellie’s eyes grow cold. Squaring his jaw, he tried to tip his head back defiantly. “Yeah, that’s right, we’ve got him. Takin’ a knuckle for every hour you lot ain’t comin’ out to meet our demands.”

So he knew about the contents of the letter. Ellie’s expression twisted into one of pure venom, and the young man’s eyes grew wide as she flicked her wrist next to his face, the blade popping out again.

“You know what this is, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question—they all knew. She dragged the metal tip down the wall, and he winced at the grating sound of metal on stone. “Is this little game you’re trying to play worth your life?”

“You won’t kill me,” he stammered, looking visibly nervous. “You Assassins are too high and mighty to stoop to simple murder.”

Ellie laughed coldly—for effect, though the implication that _he_ would stoop so low was mildly entertaining. “That is where you’re wrong, my good lad. Our tenets only forbid us from harming the innocent—but you’re hardly innocent, are you?” She could feel him trembling in her grip now, his eyes wide with fear. _Good_.

A beat passed, and he swallowed. “You won’t kill me,” he stammered, though he sounded much less confident now. “You need me.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “I hardly think you’re the only person in London who has the information I’m looking for, _boy_. If you won’t tell us what we want to know, then I’ll just kill you and find someone who does.” She squeezed harder, further weakening his air supply. “Where is Jacob.”

“I don’t know,” he wheezed, struggling in her grip.

Her blade inched closer. “Pity.”

She could see Evie growing tense from the corner of her eye, but she persisted—all the better if her bluff was fooling her friend, too.

“I don’t know where he is, but I can take you to someone who might!” He tried to add, choking on his words. The blade pressed up alarmingly against his throat—hard enough to frighten, but not enough to break the skin

“Not good enough,” she hissed. “Where is Jacob.”

“I don’t know, I swear,” he pleaded. “I’m just a lackey, they don’t tell folk like me anythin’ important!”

“Then how do you know he’s been captured?” Evie interjected, startling them both. “How do you know about his fingers being cut off as penance for our delay?”

“I don’t! I mean, I know he’s been caught—I heard some of the lads talkin’ about it a few hours ago, but I ain’t know where he’s bein’ held.”

A beat passed, and Evie scowled. “And the fingers?”

“I made it up!” He wheezed as Ellie’s grip on him tightened further. “I made that up, I don’t know if they’re really cuttin’ him up, but he’d deserve it!” Ellie snarled as she flicked her blade back into its sheath, shoving her fist into his gut.

“ _Wrong answer_ ,” she hissed. Winded, he gagged around her grip, tears welling up in his eyes. “Where. Is. Jacob.”

“I don’t know,” he sobbed, and Evie noticed a wet spot in his trousers. He’d pissed himself. “I don’t know, I swear, I don’t know!”

“Who does?”

“Clare Market!” He gasped. “Go to Clare Market. Mister Lynch will know!”

Ellie loosened her hold only a touch, narrowing her eyes as she let him swallow a few ragged gulps of air. “You see? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Her voice was all sugar and honey, but it sounded wrong against the chill her expression put into the pit of his stomach. She didn’t step back, but held him fast, though she let him breathe freely.

“So, that’s it? You’ll let me go?”

A beat passed as she considered him, lips pursed. She could tell Evie was watching her with a critical eye, tense and aggravated.

“I’ll let you live,” Ellie replied. He seemed to relax, but let out a shout of surprise as she pulled him into a chokehold, and began to squeeze.

“But I can’t let you go. Not yet,” she added. “You’ll live, but I don’t need you running off to tell all of your friends about our meeting. We’ve got the element of surprise, for now, so you’d do well to go down for a little nap.”

“You said you’d let me go!” He choked, struggling against her grip.

“And I am,” she murmured, feeling him slacken in her hold. “Now be a good boy and go to sleep.”

When he finally slumped into unconsciousness, Ellie hurried to drag his body out of sight, propped up against the wall. She tossed a few empty, discarded bottles around him to set the scene, and closed his hand around another. Evie looked over the setup that Ellie had created with an appraising brow raised.

“Was that necessary?”

“The setup, or the chokehold?” Ellie replied.

“Any of it,” Evie answered, crossing her arms loosely. Ellie gave a dismissive shrug.

“I want us to have the element of surprise. If we’d let him go off, he could have got word to his friends, and they might go to ground, or lay a different trap for us,” Ellie replied. “So far as we know, they’re expecting us to follow the instructions in the letter, which either makes them overconfident or foolish.”

“There’s very little distance between those two traits,” Evie commented, glancing aside. A beat of silence passed between them as she looked over the display again, and pursed her lips. “Would you really have killed him if he hadn’t given you what you wanted?”

Ellie scowled. “Of course not! I’m an Assassin, not a ratbag,” she snapped, hands on her hips. “He would have ended up much the same as he did now, with maybe a few more bruises, but not _dead_.”

Evie hummed, satisfied with her answer. “To Clare Market, then?”

“Indeed.”

* * *

Arriving at the overpopulated slum, the two women kept to the shadows, cautiously avoiding prying eyes, and any red jackets that prowled the streets. Scanning lines of rowhouses as they carefully picked their way through the narrow alleys and lanes, they finally settled on one with four guards loitering nearby.

Nothing would have seemed amiss to the untrained eye; one man leaned against the door frame, as if he were napping, and two others stood nearby, having a quiet conversation. A little further along, a woman paced within sprinting distance of a large hanging bell. The two of them weren’t fooled—those were guards, and the one closest to the bell was a lookout. She would have to be taken out first, or else they risked an entire borough of Blighters descending upon them.

Ellie glanced at a couple of empty bottles discarded on some boxes, and lifted one by the neck, tapping the glass against the stone of the wall gently. Evie could see the gears working in her friend’s head, and nudged her side. Their gazes met, before Ellie’s flicked up towards the rooftops, then back to hers.

Evie nodded wordlessly, and scaled up the building. Ellie waited until she saw Evie’s head poke back over the roof’s edge, and then shattered the bottle against the wall, letting out an effeminate cry of pain. She heard murmurs of concern from beyond the alley mouth, and fell to her knees, acting every bit the distressed damsel.

Her feminine weeping seemed to catch the attention of the lookout, whose flitting footsteps manifested behind her. She let out a pathetic sob, and heard the other woman _laugh_. “It’s just some dollymop who’s deep in her cups, lads,” she called over her shoulder, and Ellie heard their laughter, and the sound of distant commentary. Though she couldn’t quite make it out, she assumed it was rude.

“Alright, let’s get you along,” the other woman laughed cruelly, approaching her from behind. As soon as Ellie felt a hand on her shoulder, she sprang.

The woman hadn’t been expecting movement, but particularly not one that fast. A hand clamped over her mouth, and another rested at her throat as she was shoved up against the wall of the alley. She was face-to-face with a dark-skinned woman who she might have thought was pretty, if—

Ellie saw the recognition come over the woman’s features—not her name, perhaps, but her features. Her smile was apologetic as her fingers squeezed. “Sorry, love—nothing personal,” and she flexed her wrist.

The woman’s eyes flew wide as the blade sprang into her throat, hands grabbing at Ellie’s wrist. She struggled against an iron grip as blood welled up in her mouth and choked her. She lasted only a few moments before Ellie was easing her to the alley floor, brushing her eyelids closed—another faceless death in the misery of London’s streets. Ellie sighed as she squeezed her eyes shut, the mechanical movement of wiping her blade clean an unconscious one.

Scaling up the building, Evie helped her on to the rooftop. “Are you alright?” She asked.

Ellie’s smile was thin and forced as she shook her head. “It never gets any easier,” she sighed.

Evie took Ellie’s hands for a moment, then touched their foreheads together. “Good,” she murmured. “It shouldn’t. If it becomes easy, then you’re losing yourself.”

Ellie worked her jaw for a moment, then sighed as she took a step back, giving Evie’s hand a squeeze before she relinquished her hold. A soft _thank you_ passed between them, and Evie nodded before they crept across the rooftops, towards the two brutes in the lane.

Free-falling next to Evie had always been easy, and the two of them moved with a smooth grace that she and Jacob could never quite match. The men crumpled beneath them with loud groans of surprised protest, and the man propped up against the doorframe jumped in surprise. Staring down the two women who had just handily dispatched his comrades, he froze. His split second of hesitation would be his undoing.

Ellie launched herself towards him with a speed that surprised even her, the blade of her gauntlet finding purchase in his throat as she used her momentum to shove him to the ground. He gurgled and struggled beneath her in protest, and she sat atop his chest to pin him down, her free hand covering his blood-soaked mouth to silence his death knell.

When he finally stilled beneath her, his eyes milky, Ellie closed her eyes and heaved a slow breath. Once more, she cleaned her blade, and took Evie’s offered hand to rise to her feet. No words passed between them, both women still too tense and aggravated.

_Foolish_. Ellie squeezed Evie’s hand in a gesture of comfort, and she responded in kind. They found the other’s gaze briefly, then looked towards the door where the last man had been standing.

* * *

Ellie kicked open the door to find a startled Victor Lynch on the other side. Hardly a beat passed before he had a dagger in hand, and was lunging towards her with a snarl. She sidestepped, catching his wrist to spin him around and twist his arm up behind his back. He groaned as the movement wrenched the dagger from his hand. She hooked her leg around his to throw him off-balance, and they crashed into the table.

He squirmed beneath her, dazed, but not incapacitated. Scrabbling at the surface with his free hand, he struggled in her grip, swearing and blustering about the indignity of it all.

Ellie drove his own dagger back through his palm, pinning him to the table. “That’s enough, Mister Lynch,” she hissed out, heedless of his pained shrieking. He continued to struggle, despite the tears welling up in his eyes as his impaled hand twitched around the knife.

She grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck and yanked. “What have you done with Jacob Frye.”

“I ain’t tellin’ you anythin’, you musty cunt,” he spat.

Ellie’s nostrils flared, and she slammed his face into the table, grinding his cheek into the rough wood. “That’s quite rude, Victor. I’ll forgive you this once, though, and give you another chance to answer me.” She paused for effect. “Where have you taken Jacob Frye?”

“Go to hell,” he snapped. Ellie’s eyes narrowed and she yanked on his restrained arm. He grunted as she pushed back on his index finger, fear flashing across his features before he swallowed it back.

“I’ll give you a last opportunity to answer me, before I start breaking your fingers, Mister Lynch,” she said, her tone frighteningly even. “Once more, shall we? Where. Is. Jacob.”

“You think I’m afraid o’ you, aye? You really think some empty threats’ll—” The crack of his finger breaking was enough to send a shudder down her spine, but she swallowed down the grimace, her expression remaining cold.

“Would you like to try again, Mister Lynch?” She asked around his wild screams.

He sobbed angrily, trying to wrest himself free of her grip, but found it only aggravated the dagger stuck in his other hand. “You ain’t gonna kill me,” he shrieked, eyes wild. “You can’t. If you do, you won’t never find your precious little Jacob. You _need_ me.”

Another crack, and another howl of rage and pain. “Shall we continue?”

“Go on with it,” he bawled. “You can break every finger I have, I won’t tell you anythin’!”

Ellie narrowed her eyes as she pushed back on his thumb. “Every man has his price, Mister Lynch. If I break all of your fingers, and you still haven’t told me what I want to know, then I’ll start cutting them off instead. Broken fingers may heal, but cut ones won’t grow back.” She pushed a little harder, but not quite enough to break. “ _Would you like to try again, Victor?_ ”

A beat of silence passed, and his expression—though pained—grew pensive. Finally, he spoke. “Your man is in the warehouse up at Earlham and Shorts Gardens. In the basement,” he stammered, body trembling. “Now, let me go.”

Ellie eased the pressure on Lynch’s hand, but held him fast as she placed her left hand on the back of his neck, leaning close to his ear. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mister Lynch.”

With a great rush of breath, his body went rigid. Ellie stepped back, and he slumped forward onto the table before sliding to the ground as she wiped her hidden blade clean. Evie’s gloved hand rested on the nape of Ellie’s neck, giving her a comforting squeeze.

“It gets no easier,” she murmured, and Ellie sniffled briefly as she rubbed at her eyes.

“No, it doesn’t,” she sighed.

“Are you certain killing him was the best course?”

“Victor Lynch was the leader of the Blighters in The Strand. I saw a chance to deal with him sooner, rather than later, so I took it. Do you disapprove?”

Evie considered her for a moment, then shook her head—of course she would have done the same. The Blighters were scrambling, and they knew it—it was why they’d made the attempt on Jacob.

“To Earlham and Shorts Gardens, then?”

Ellie nodded. “Let us put an end to this farce.”

* * *

Arriving at Earlham Street, the appointed warehouse was easy to pick out—a few red-coated Blighters hung around its perimeter. A dull headache was beginning to nag at the edge of Ellie’s senses, but she was unwilling to let that deter her when the thought of Jacob’s safety seemed so close.

She focused her Sense, peering past the walls of the building. “There are three men outside—one at the door, as you can see, and two more around the back. I see two inside, and—” Her breath caught when she recognized the silhouette of a third.

“Ellie?”

“It’s Jacob. He’s here.”

Evie squeezed at the nape of Ellie’s neck, waiting for a moment while Ellie gathered herself again. “You’re going to wear yourself out.”

“We’re close, Evie. I just want this to be over.”

Evie didn’t miss the note of exhaustion in the younger woman’s voice, and sighed as she patted her shoulder. “Come on, then. It seems like the Blighters really were foolish enough to think we’d walk right into their trap.” A beat. “How shall we do this?”

Ellie’s eyes snapped open, and she looked up and down the lane—clear of foot traffic, she dashed across the street, and down the boardwalk. Evie sucked in a sharp breath as she froze.

One right hook, and he staggered, utterly caught off-guard. A left hook, then an uppercut, and the Blighter was done. He crumpled to the ground, and while Ellie dragged him out of sight, Evie hurried towards her.

“Ellie, you absolute pillock—!”

“I am no longer in the mood for permissiveness or subtlety, Evie. These bastards kidnapped Jacob, then thought we would be stupid enough to fall into a poorly laid trap—and for what? To get a few old manuscripts they can’t read about an artefact they don’t understand? On another night, perhaps I would be more willing to play a game with them, but on this night?” A pause, and she sighed as she rubbed her eyes.

“Oh, Ellie…” Evie squeezed her friend’s shoulder. “Never mind. Let’s check the door. We may need a key—”

Ellie pulled the latch on the access door, and it popped open. Evie pulled up her hood, and Ellie did the same.

“Perhaps at least a little subtlety, if you please,” Evie murmured, slinking inside the gloom of the warehouse. Ellie nodded, digging deep for her Sense again, the dull ache in her temples becoming a painful throb.

“They’re reclining, now,” she whispered. “I think Jacob is—”

“Ellie, stop it,” Evie insisted, grabbing her arm. “You’re going to give yourself a headache.” Ellie leveled her with a rueful look, and Evie sighed. “Fine. A _worse_ headache. Come on. If it’s just two men, we can certainly take them.”

“I’m tired, Evie…” The unspoken meaning of those words wasn’t lost on her— _if we can make it out of here without more death…_ Evie nodded, patting her shoulder briefly before they crept back into the shadows.

* * *

Coming upon the back of the warehouse, they found Jacob, along with two Blighters huddled around a makeshift fire pit.

The two men were exceptionally large—well over six feet tall, with physiques to match. More than not wanting to leave more death in her wake, Ellie wanted to avoid facing off against such brutes. She and Evie were fast, but a well-placed blow from either one of these men could be devastating.

Yes, they needed to be careful. Ellie crept around the edges of the darkness, closer to Jacob. He was bound to a chair and gagged, and his head drooped against his chest. She could see he was still breathing—still alive—as his shoulders rose and fell. A sense of relief came over her—at least there was that.

One of the men was whittling away at a small piece of wood, while the other thumbed through a magazine. Machinery and boxes sat piled high around their alcove, obscuring pathways and possible escape routes.

As Ellie crept forward in the shadows, she could see that they’d used hempen rope to bind Jacob to the chair—that was to be their downfall. From the opposite side of the alcove, a loud clanging of some metal thing falling to the ground drew the Blighters’ attention. Even Jacob had lifted his head, and Ellie sucked in a breath. He’d caught that sound, too, and stiffened.

Ellie’s gaze flitted between Jacob’s back and the distracted gangsters, waiting for them to make their move. The one who had been whittling motioned for his associate to take his post—he would be the one to investigate.

An eerie silence settled over the space, but Ellie took her chance while they were distracted, pulling the dirk from her utility belt and quickly sawing through the ropes at his ankles, legs, and torso.

All three of them heard the sound of a wet _thump_ , and Ellie knew Evie had killed the whittling man. She swallowed thickly, moving to the last of the ropes binding Jacob’s wrists behind his back. Jacob had faithfully kept an eye on the second Blighter, who took a step closer to the darkness.

“Toby? You alright, mate?”

The ropes around his wrists sloughed to the floor, and Ellie quickly reached up to undo his gag. As Jacob moved his arms to rub sorely at his wrists, the chair creaked in protest. They both froze as the Blighter whipped his head around.

Bewilderment, shock, and anger pinched his expression. “Oi! How’d you—” He began, storming towards Jacob. Ellie popped up from behind the chair, and he stopped short. “ _Shit!_ How’d you get in here?”

Ellie stepped around the chair, putting herself between the two men. “Walk away.”

“Eh?”

“I said: Walk. Away,” Ellie repeated, voice frighteningly even. “There’s been enough bloodshed tonight.”

The man narrowed his eyes at her. “You think I’m afraid o’ some little shortstack? I know who you are—you don’t scare me,” he scoffed. “Come on, then, _love_ ,” his tone nasal and mocking. “Let’s have a go, shall we?”

Ellie stiffened, but she needn’t have bothered as the Blighter gave a loud shout and whirled around. Behind him, Evie stumbled backward, trying to get out of his reach. “ _Bitch!_ ” He roared, managing to grab hold of her wrist. With a shout, he hurled Evie towards her compatriots, but it was Ellie who leapt to catch her.

The two women were pitched to the dirt with a loud _thump_ and a of yelp from Evie. They could hear Jacob and his assailant scuffling while Ellie scrambled to stand, checking Evie for damages.

“Are you alright, darling?” She asked, cupping Evie’s cheeks. The alabaster woman nodded, then shook her head as if to clear the cobwebs.

“I’m fine, just a little rattled,” she wheezed, clearly winded and in no state to fight. “Help Jacob.”

Ellie turned to see Jacob and the Blighter still scrapping, the taller’s back to her. She closed the distance and plunged her hidden blade into his right side.

The man let out a violent snarl as he rounded on her, swinging a great fist in her direction. She barely had time to stagger back as she sucked in a sharp breath. Jacob leapt upon the man’s back, an arm curling around his throat in an awkward chokehold. The Blighter snarled as he swung his elbow backwards. Ellie saw the flash of pain cross Jacob’s features, but his grip didn’t loosen. Instead, he looked to Ellie, eyes watering as he seemed to plead for her aid.

She charged forward and drove her blade up into the Blighter’s diaphragm. A great rush of air escaped his chest. He stumbled and slumped, and Jacob let himself drop back to his feet.

Ellie let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. The Blighter’s posture stiffened, and the next moment Ellie was on the ground. The Blighter had backhanded her to the dirt, and was now rounding on Jacob. Momentarily dazed, Evie appeared at her side to help Ellie to her feet as she clambered to find footing again.

Jacob, for all his injuries and stumbling while trying to stay upright, was still ever the scrapper. As the Blighter swung, Jacob dodged, parried, and managed to get in a few hits of his own. Two women righted themselves just in time to see the metallic flash of a gun barrel in the Blighter’s hand. Ellie froze, sucking in a sharp breath as Jacob rushed forward.

The sound was like a crack of thunder.

“ _Jacob!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for your kind patience in awaiting this update. The summer months were a real challenge for me this year, fighting with illness and depression the whole time. The last chapter ended on a cliffhanger, and so does this one, unfortunately—sorry about that! The next chapter hopefully shouldn’t take as long. Many thanks to those of you who are still following this story ❤️ your support is greatly appreciated!
> 
> As always, the best way to let me know you enjoyed my work is to leave me a review! Thank you again for your support of my work!


	17. Safe Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having recovered Jacob from his captors, the trio return to the train carriage to patch the impetuous brother up.

The Blighter trembled as blood welled up in his mouth. “How…”

The disbelief was palpable in his features, and Jacob relinquished his hold on the brute, stumbling back. He was caught by Ellie, who whirled him around to check the damages with a panicked worry lining her features.

Instead, she found him just as before, and instead it was the Blighter’s body slumping to the ground.

She met Jacob’s gaze, eyes watering. “Are you alright?” She managed to croak, and he sighed as he touched his forehead against hers.

“Never better,” he joked. After a pause, he smiled gratefully. “Thank you for coming.” He lifted his head to look at Evie, who was stood nearby. “Both of you.”

Evie clenched her jaw, and he could tell she was biting back some kind of scathing remark. He grinned, a little haphazard as he kissed the dark crown of Ellie’s hair before he looked at his sister again. “Go on, then. Let’s hear it, Miss Frye.”

Evie’s expression pinched, and she scowled deeply. “I won’t give you the satisfaction,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “You look surprisingly fit for someone who was taken down in a warehouse only hours ago.”

“I nearly had them,” Jacob insisted, even as he winced.

Ellie stood back with a stern expression. “Stop it, both of you. Now isn’t the time for banter and arguments. We need to get Jacob back to the train and patched up—”

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he insisted. Ellie jabbed a finger into his ribs. “ _Ow_ ,” he hissed in protest, rubbing the tender spot.

“You’re fine, are you, Mister Frye?” She ground out, jaw taut. Jacob recognized the tension that hung between the three of them, and his first instinct was to needle them both, but he could see some brittle thing in Ellie’s expression at the edge of cracking.

He sighed, though it was at least a little indignant. “Alright, fine. Back to the train, then,” he muttered.

* * *

Jacob complained of being hungry as Ellie and Evie helped him settle into his sister’s armchair. Ellie rolled her eyes as she helped Jacob peel off his overcoat.

“I’ll go see if there’s anything left over from supper for you very shortly. For now, I want to get you tidied up, and see to your injuries—”

“Give me a finger of whiskey, and I’ll be perfectly fine,” he insisted.

“For goodness sake, Jacob,” Evie snapped. “A finger of whiskey won’t heal broken bones or bruises. Don’t be foolish.”

Ellie gave her a rueful look, discarding Jacob’s waistcoat and shirts. “You can have the drink, darling,” she murmured. “But let us patch you up, first.”

Jacob pouted defiantly at his sister, but muttered a quiet _alright_. He was rewarded with a soft kiss on his temple from Ellie, and he couldn’t help his boyish smile, despite his discomfort. Examining the deep bruising on his sides and abdomen, Evie scowled.

“I’ll send for Doctor King—”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Jacob interjected. “I’m bruised and sore, but nothing is broken.”

Evie’s expression hardened. “Visibly, perhaps. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“No,” Jacob insisted again, leveling his sister with a glare. The intensity of it was lessened by his swollen cheeks and black eye, and Evie bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it. “I’m not wasting good coin for an old man with crumbs in his beard to jab his fingers into my ribs and tell me I’ve got a bruise, and to use arnica tincture and rest up. I have eyes, Evie. I can see that perfectly fine on my own.”

Evie and Ellie exchanged exasperated glances, but then Evie laughed, though the sound was a touch hysterical. “Alright, fine,” she muttered. “I’m too tired to argue this with you, but if you start hemorrhaging in the middle of the night, I don’t want to hear about it.”

Ellie shot her a grave look, but Evie didn’t deign to respond, picking up a warm washcloth to help clean him up. Most of his injuries were contusions and welts that resulted from being struck repeatedly, and he was mobile enough to help apply arnica in places he could see.

Evie handled his shoulders and back, while Ellie saw to a particularly nasty gash on his cheek. It was surrounded by an ugly bruise that she suspected was delivered with brass knuckles, and may have even been the final blow.

“Honestly, Jacob,” Ellie tutted softly, breaking the long silence that had hung between the three of them. She swabbed around the edge of the broken skin with alcohol solution before applying a salve.

“I almost had them, you know,” he insisted. Both women rolled their eyes, though Jacob only saw Ellie’s. “I did!”

“I believe you, darling,” she said earnestly, leaving a brief peck on the tip of his nose. “But now isn’t the time to posture.”

“I’m not posturing,” he grumbled, but fell silent again as she finished patching him up. A small piece of gauze, and some surgical tape completed the dressing, and then she saw to the rest of him.

* * *

The silence wasn’t overly tense, but it could hardly be described as comfortable. Having finished cleaning up his injuries, and getting him a bowl of leftover lamb stew from the dining car, the three of them looked suitably weary.

Jacob looked to Ellie with a pleading expression. “Help me up. I want to go back to our room,” he murmured.

Evie scowled. “Jacob, you need to be taking rest to recover, not chasing Ellie’s tail.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Jacob snapped, though he flustered. Ellie laughed.

“Even so,” Evie went on. “I’d rather you stay here tonight, so that Ellie and I are both nearby, in case you need anything. Especially since you refused to let me call on Doctor King.”

Jacob grumbled under his breath, and looked to Ellie again, as if to ask her to intervene on his behalf. He looked positively miserable, and while she didn’t relish the idea of adding to that misery, common sense had to win out, this time.

“I agree with Evie, darling,” she said gently, stroking his cheek. “It’s better if you’re here, for now. We’ve more supplies, and the carriages are warmer. I don’t think a cold, dingy room in Whitechapel is the best place for you, right now.” There was more to it than that—and they all knew it, too.

Would the Blighters attempt a countermeasure so quickly after their first had been stymied? Would they go to ground, and dig in their heels? There were a great deal of unknowns and variables, and Jacob was already vulnerable. No, as much as she might have liked the privacy that Jacob was so clearly after, she was smart enough to understand that all three of them were safest together, for the time being.

She didn’t miss the way Jacob’s expression crumbled, and Ellie couldn’t help her gentle laugh. She leaned in to put a kiss on his crown. “Don’t worry, love. Just for a day or two, until you’re feeling more yourself, alright?”

“I’m feeling fine,” he insisted.

Evie rolled her eyes. “Yes, which is why I suppose you asked Ellie to help you up just now?” She glanced between the two of them, then sighed. “You’re ridiculous, Jacob.”

“Fine,” he muttered. “If you’re going to force me to stay, then I want another drink.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Evie snapped, the vein in her forehead throbbing.

“Yes it does. I’m injured, so you have to take care of me and do exactly as I ask.”

“Jacob Frye—”

“ _Enough_.” Ellie’s voice cut through their argument, her fingers pressed to her temples. “The two of you are absolutely impossible, honestly.” She looked to the younger twin. “Jacob, stop haranguing your sister—she and I went through a great deal to find you.”

Jacob flinched, and though he looked as if he wanted to verbally spar with her—the same old argument about _taking sides_ , she could guess—he relented and kept his mouth shut.

“And Evie—” The elder twin shot her a warning glance. “Stop lambasting him. We’ve _all_ been through more than enough for one day. If you still want to take the piss with each other tomorrow morning, you can be my guest, but for tonight, _please_ —” She sighed deeply. “Please, let’s all just settle in, and get some rest…”

“Ellie…”

She lifted her gaze to Evie, whose expression had gone from dour to concerned, and she raised a brow. Then, she felt something wet on her lips. She touched her nose, and drew her fingers back to find them coated in blood. She cursed, looking for a clean handkerchief. Evie offered hers, and Ellie took it gratefully, pressing the soft fabric against her nose.

“How bad is it?” Evie asked softly, stroking her back.

Ellie shook her head, expression pinched. “A migraine.”

Evie’s brows raised in alarm. “How long?”

“Since we left the Strand,” she murmured. Evie fretted briefly, touching her hand to Ellie’s forehead. Ellie tried to shoo her away.

“I’m fine, Evie. I just need to lay down,” she sighed.

Evie scowled, shaking her head. “You two are absolutely impossible. You could be hemorrhaging from your carotid artery and you’d tell me you were fine,” she muttered.

Ellie snorted, then groaned in pain. “Ugh. We’re all like that,” she shot back. “Help me get Jacob into bed—”

“No,” Evie ground out. “You sit down. I’ll help Jacob into bed—”

“Evie—”

“And I’ll leave you two in privacy after that,” she finished. Ellie sighed, helping Jacob to his feet, and taking his seat in the armchair while Evie helped settle him into bed.

“I’ll be in Jacob’s car if you need me for anything,” Evie said finally. Ellie stood and crossed the carriage, wrapping her friend up in a snug embrace. Evie gladly returned it, giving her a gentle squeeze.

When Ellie stepped back, she brushed a few strands of hair away from her face with a gentle smile. “Thank you, Evie.”

Evie let out a deep sigh, and nodded slowly. “Good night, Ellie.” With comforting squeeze of her fingers, Evie departed.

* * *

Silence hung between the two of them while Jacob reclined in Evie’s bed, watching as Ellie moved around the car, completing the nightly rituals of brushing her teeth, washing her face, combing out her hair—each action was measured and deliberate. She was stalling.

He wondered to himself if her headaches were getting worse, or if she had just overdone it tonight. His mind was drawn back to the cold sweat on her brow in the sewer, when they had followed the path from her family’s old estate—

“Did you still want another finger of whiskey?” She asked, breaking his reverie. She stood aside the bed, changed into a high-collared chemise.

He shook his head. “No,” he murmured. “I only demanded it because Evie was being difficult.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, motioning for him to scoot over. He did as she asked, and she dimmed the oil wick on the lamp before sliding in next to him. They shuffled around for a moment, until they rested comfortably on their sides, facing one another.

Jacob tapped the end of her nose, a look of concern on his face—marred only slightly by the swollen black eye. “How’s your head?”

“I can feel the pressure building again,” she mumbled, closing her eyes. “I might bleed on the pillow in the night, and Evie’s going to kill me—”

“She’ll have to go through me,” Jacob interjected, only a little teasing. “I hardly think Evie will castigate you for something you’ve no control over, sweetheart.”

Ellie sighed, leaning in to the furrow of his shoulder. “I’ll still feel badly…”

“And that’s natural,” he assured her, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “But your first concern shouldn’t be whether you’ll ruin Evie’s bedclothes. You should be more worried about yourself.”

He was sure he could feel her rolling her eyes, and she buried a little closer. “I’m more concerned about things I can’t control—like you haring off and getting kidnapped.”

Jacob laughed, giving her a hard squeeze. “Do you wish you could control me, sweetheart?”

She leaned back to look at him, expression heartsick and weary. “No.”

Of course, he’d said it in jest, and they both knew it. Still, the conviction in her voice made him smile. He leaned down to press a lingering kiss against her forehead.

“I was worried,” she finally put in, nuzzling his cheeks as she put her arms around his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, thumbing over the full shape of her lips. “If it’s any consolation, I had no intention of being kidnapped when I left you on the train this afternoon.”

Ellie snorted out a laugh, then took his hand to kiss his palm. As they regarded each other, some brittle thing in her cracked, and she pulled him in.

He remained still as she held him, but for the gentle stroke of his hand along her spine. “I’m here, sweetheart,” he whispered. “It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I know I should be comforting you after what you’ve been through, but I’m just so glad you’re alive—”

He hushed her, peppering her chest and collar with kisses. “We’re alright, love.”

“I know,” she whispered, soft kisses pressed against his crown and forehead and cheeks as she slowly released her hold on him. “I know, and I know I’m hurting you. I’m sorry.”

Jacob couldn’t bring himself to admit that she was putting too much pressure on his tender spots, so he hushed her again, trying to pull her closer. She gently worked her way out of his grip, settling him down into the mattress as her tears continued to slip down her cheeks.

“Tom told us you were alive when they took you, but I was so afraid…” she mumbled, her voice trembling. “I know how tenacious you are, how hard you are to knock down. I thought ‘what must they have done to be able to put you down for long enough to drag you away?’ There were few scenarios that didn’t end in tragedy.”

A beat passed, and he reached up to brush a few of her tears away. She took his hand to press more kisses against his palm. He didn’t know exactly who ‘Tom’ was, but he wasn’t concerned about it right then.

He sighed, squirming a little as he watched her. “I should have listened to you and Evie.”

Ellie paused as she took a moment to really look at him. He was flustered, and looked utterly incensed as he went on. “You were right—both of you… but don’t tell her I said that.” He looked at her imploringly, and Ellie smiled as she hooked her pinky in his.

“Of course.”

Jacob let out a sigh of relief, his cheeks tinged crimson. “I knew I should have gotten more information, first. I should have waited until at least one of you could come with me. I just didn’t want to miss this chance…” He looked away sheepishly, and Ellie shook her head fondly.

Sighing out a ragged laugh, she tucked his hand against her chest. “While I appreciate your humility, none of that matters to me, Jacob. I don’t care that I was right or not, and I’m certain Evie doesn’t either, no matter how she bloviates. We only care that you’re still alive, and that you’re safe.”

Jacob looked at her incredulously. Even tidied, it still hurt her to see him so battered and bruised, knowing how he’d arrived there. She forced a smile as she drew her gentle touch over the contours of his face, then laced their fingers up together. Closing her eyes, she pressed soft kisses to the back of his palm.

He gave her a comforting squeeze. “I almost had them, you know.”

Ellie raised a brow as she looked at him, then huffed out a laugh as she leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Oh, indeed? Five men with chains and brass knuckles, and the dashing Jacob Frye nearly—”

“It was ten,” Jacob muttered, looking affronted.

“Ten!” Ellie’s brows shot up. “For _one man_? Even for someone as bricky as you, Jacob, that’s—”

“Yes, but I’m telling you, I almost had them! What a story that would have been…”

Ellie shook her head as she laughed, giving him a light squeeze, still mindful of his tender spots. Tension hung between them, and she grimaced.

“I should have been there…” Her dulcet voice broke the silence.

Jacob propped himself up on an elbow. “I know you wanted to be, but you keep your promises, and there’s nothing bad about that.”

“Perhaps, but—”

“Stop it,” he said, pressing a gentle thumb against her lips. “None of what happened is your fault, and no one—save perhaps you—blames you for anything.” She fretted and squirmed as she squeezed his hand, and he sighed. “I know how you feel—I felt it, too, some years ago in Crawley. After you disappeared, and I thought you were dead, it was all I could think about for weeks— _I should have been there._ ”

She looked at him searchingly, her eyes damp once more, and he kissed her. “I thought that if I’d just been there that night, I could have kept you safe, and you’d still be alive. I blamed myself—if I had trained harder, studied more, I could have been ready. I could have—” Jacob paused as his mouth screwed up, and a beat of silence passed between them.

“It wasn’t your fault, Jacob,” Ellie murmured, brushing a thumb over the scar in his brow.

“And neither is this yours,” he insisted. “All that matters is that you’re still here, and so am I. And the better I am for it.”

Ellie smiled thinly as she snuggled a little closer. “As am I.”

“Flattery? Now, that will get you somewhere,” he purred, pressing more kisses against her mouth. Ellie hummed as she put her arms around his shoulders, welcoming him in as he seemed to melt against her body. A great, resounding sigh escaped them both as they deflated into the mattress.

“I hope you’ll have a little more care in the future, Jacob,” she murmured, fingers gently carding through his hair. “It’d be an awfully lonely world without you in it, but more than that… I want to have a future with you, darling. You have to be here for that to happen.”

Jacob felt delight and anxiety bubble up in his chest, and gave her a squeeze so hard that she wheezed. Pressing his face into the soft curve of her breasts, he sighed.

“I promise,” he murmured, kissing at her skin through the fabric. “I want that future with you, too, Ellie.” _More than anything…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, the best way to let me know is to leave me a comment! It really makes me day, and helps motivate me to continue! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡


	18. Strife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob seems to have made a dangerous ‘friend’ in Maxwell Roth…

“A letter came for you today, Jacob,” Evie called as he passed through her carriage.

“A letter? For me?”

“Yes, that is what I said,” Evie replied, not looking up from her broadsheet. “I’ve left it in your carriage, if you wish to read it.”

Jacob shot a glare in her direction before crossing into his own carriage to find Ellie reclined on the settee, nose buried in a book.

“There’s my girl,” he purred, not bothering to shuck his overcoat or accoutrements before prowling on top of her.

Ellie laughed as she lifted the book, fingers glancing through his hair. “You’re like a cat,” she scolded him, though there was no heat to her words.

Jacob hummed as he nuzzled into her breasts, hands blithely groping at her through the fabric. “At least I haven’t claws like one,” he teased.

Ellie shook her head as she set her book aside. “Come here,” she sighed, drawing him into a tender kiss. Jacob nearly moaned as he melted into her, hands drifting along her sides.

When they paused to catch their breath, he sighed as he relished Ellie’s warm fingers stroking his cheeks. “You’re so good to me, Ellie,” he murmured.

She smiled as she kissed him once more, nudging him up. They sat alongside one another on the settee, and Ellie leaned into his shoulder. “I’ll be much better to you if you’ll come back to our room later,” she purred, her silky voice caressing his senses. “I’ve missed you.”

He shivered as he bit his lip and looked at her hopefully. “What if I draw the blinds? I can lock the door—”

“This came for you today,” she interrupted, handing him a wax-sealed envelope.

Jacob took it, curiously turning it over in his hands. “No one sends me letters, except you,” he mused. “I wonder who it’s from.”

Ellie looked at it with some interest, then patted his back. “Well, you could open it and find out,” she teased. Jacob smiled as he leaned over to press a quick kiss on her crown.

She smiled sweetly at him, and waited while he tore open the envelope. She didn’t miss the way his brow furrowed as he read its contents, or the way it turned into a speculative scowl. Resisting the urge to reach for the letter—it had been addressed specifically to Jacob, after all—she leaned against his shoulder.

“What does it say, darling? You look upset.”

“No, not upset,” he assured her, his expression softening as he leaned over to give her a quick kiss. “Confused, perhaps. Maybe a little bewildered.”

Ellie’s own brow furrowed. “What does it say?”

“It’s a dinner invitation,” he answered. Ellie perked up, her curiosity piqued.

“With whom? When?”

“With Maxwell Roth, this evening,” he answered.

Ellie’s brows shot up in surprise. “The leader of the Blighters?” Concern rippled through her expression as she looked up at Jacob. “You’re not going, are you?”

Jacob turned the card over in his hands, seeming to debate his answer. “I’m curious. Aren’t you? He says he has a proposition for me, and I’d want to know what it is before I declined.”

Ellie chewed her lips as her fingers twined up in his. Jacob gave her a comforting squeeze while he waited for her to respond.

“I want to know what kind of game he’s trying to play, but I don’t trust anything he says. He’s the one who trained these men and women to take us down, and we’ve been picking them off one by one. Don’t you think this feels a little desperate, on his part?”

Jacob turned back to the card, narrowing his eyes at it. She knew that look.

“Jacob…” They both remembered what happened the last time he’d gone into a Blighter stronghold alone, and neither was eager to repeat it.

“I’ll be careful, sweetheart—I promise.”

“Like last time?”

“Ellie—” He looked hurt, and she grimaced.

“Alright, fine,” she sighed in resignation. “But _please_ be careful. If not for your own sake, then at least for mine. You promised me—”

Jacob smiled fondly as he kissed her. “Thank you for believing in me,” he whispered.

She sighed again. “Thank you for trusting me,” she replied, touching her forehead against his. Of course she’d known he’d been debating whether to tell her the truth—she was too smart for her own good, sometimes. He smiled as he shook his head and left a final brief kiss on her temple.

“I’ll be back,” he said, tucking the card into his pocket as he stood. “Keep the bed warm for me.” He gave her a parting wink as he left.

Ellie watched him go, then reclined on the settee again, picking her book back up. She tried to resume her passage, but an overwhelming sense of unease settled low in her gut. Something about all of this wasn’t right…

* * *

“There you are.” Ellie’s silken voice drew Jacob’s attention up from the paper in his hand.

“Hello, love,” he purred, leaning into the soft kiss she offered.

“I haven’t seen you in weeks,” she murmured, curling her fingers into his arm. “Where have you been?”

“I’ve been working,” he replied, and though his tone was jovial, the answer was strangely evasive.

She glanced at the paper in his hand. “What’s this?”

“It’s nothing,” he insisted. His attempt at deceit had been poorly executed, so of course her expression hardened.

“Is it from Roth?” She demanded, her tone souring.

He swallowed, squirming beneath her gaze until he finally relented, holding the letter out towards her. “Yes,” he mumbled.

She sniffed, but didn’t take it. “I don’t need to read your personal correspondence, Jacob… but why try to hide it from me?”

There was a pause as Jacob folded the letter back into his overcoat pocket. They both knew the answer already—that she would be displeased—so he shrugged. Ellie sighed as she wrung her hands.

“I’d heard you were working with him… why do you insist on continuing to associate with him, Jacob? He’s not good for you…”

“That’s not fair, Ellie. You don’t know him like I do. If you’d just give him a chance, I’m sure you’d—”

“Hold the same opinion. He is our _enemy_. More than that, he’s a wicked, _dangerous_ man…”

“He’s helping us,” Jacob insisted.

Ellie’s scowl deepened. “Just because he’s not a _Templar_ doesn’t mean he’s not our enemy, Jacob. He was cavorting with Starrick for _years_ before we arrived in London, and would have continued to do so if not for our involvement in the city’s affairs. I don’t mean to speak over you, darling, but surely you must realise the implications—”

“You sound just like my father,” he sneered, cutting her off mid-sentence.

Ellie froze, and her throat closed up as she turned her gaze on him. He looked at her in defiance, but the ache and hurt in her expression made regret sink into his guts like a stone.

“How could you say that to me?” She asked, breathless. “How could you even _think_ it?” A beat. “Jacob, when have I ever—”

“You’re being too staid about this, sweetheart,” Jacob cut her off again, trying to redirect the conversation. “Roth and I have an agreement, and we’re whittling down Starrick’s remaining resources. Soon, he’ll be completely without aid but for the highest reaches of society.”

Ellie stared at him, her expression hard. Jacob sighed as he took her hand. “Come on, Ellie,” he looked at her imploringly. “I’d think that if you loved me, you’d be happy for me. You’d want to support me,” he insisted, squeezing her fingers.

Ellie pulled her hand away, perhaps a little more roughly than she intended. “I do love you, Jacob Frye—unconditionally. But loving you does not mean that I must blindly support whatever foolish things you wish to do,” she snapped, her voice trembling as she struggled to maintain her composure. “Is that what you expect of me, Jacob? To kowtow to whatever demand and fancy strikes you, such that my entire personality is forfeit?”

“No—Ellie, please. Be reasonable—”

“I am!” She snapped, voice raising an octave. He could see the tension in her limbs, and the way she barely managed to conceal her fury. She drew a calming breath, gloved fingers flexing as she straightened her posture.

“Roth is _dangerous_. I shouldn’t need to tell _you_ of all people that, darling. We’ve spent the last half a year dodging men and women that he trained to destroy us. He’s only using you—he’s got an angle, because of course he does. Why else would he have waited so long to try sinking his claws into you, claiming he seeks companionship? Where was he six months ago, when you first arrived?” Jacob looked offended, but Ellie went on. “Can you not see that? That he’s using you to his own ends, and nothing else? His only joy is in sowing chaos, and that is not our way.”

“He’s helping our cause now, so what does it matter?” Jacob scoffed.

She bristled. “Helping our cause? How? Disrupting Starrick’s industry is all well and good, but at what cost? Jacob, listen to yourself—Roth would have been glad to continue trying to destroy us if he hadn’t stopped being amicable to what Starrick was making him do. And when you stop being of use to him, he’ll certainly resume his attempts to kill you, because you _will_ get in the way of his sport.

“Think about it, darling—only weeks before, he was perfectly happy to set his dogs upon us like chaff, wasn’t he? He willfully followed the whims of a ruthless tyrant until it got in the way of his _fun_. Now, he’s sunk his claws into the ‘bravest man in London’—because you’ve thrown a wrench into Starrick’s plans. Because breeding chaos with you is _more fun_ than following Starrick’s orders.”

Jacob squirmed beneath her gaze, but didn’t refute her. None of her assessments were wrong—in fact, he’d begun to wonder about Roth’s motivations, himself. But he couldn’t deny that he liked what they were doing—sowing chaos and discord in Starrick’s ranks was invigorating. Cursorily—though he was hesitant to admit it to anyone—he enjoyed the attention and praise and approval he got from Roth. The man was impossibly charismatic, and Jacob found it increasingly easy to ignore any misgivings he may have had about him, in favour of focusing on the encouragement, support, and open affection.

“Well?” She demanded, when the silence hung on too long. “Tell me I’m wrong, if you know it to be true.”

Jacob squirmed. “It’s not like that, Ellie—”

“Isn’t it, Jacob? If he was still cavorting with Starrick, as he was until only recently, would you have so vehemently insisted upon his beneficence?” She demanded.

“It’s not the same thing,” he insisted, but offered no further argument.

Ellie’s expression fell, her brows knit in consternation. “Listen to me, darling,” she called to him, taking his hands in her own. He scowled, but eventually turned to look at her. “I understand—”

“How could you _possibly_ understand?” He snarled. Was that fear in his expression? She pushed the thought aside, for the moment.

“Because I know you, Jacob. And you’re not yourself, right now,” she said. She felt him trembling, his face red as his expression softened. She drew her thumb along his cheekbone, hoping to soothe him as she spoke.

“I know that you think Roth is providing you with what you need—and I don’t begrudge you of that.”

Jacob’s expression soured, but now she could definitely see fear seeping in at the edges. “What is it that you think he’s providing me with?” He snapped, though didn’t push her away.

“Support, approval, and affection from an older man whom you respect. He’s giving you all the things you so desperately needed and wanted and _deserved_ from your father that you never got.” His shoulders grew tense, but she went on. “You deserved more, Jacob, and I’m sorry Ethan never did right by you while he was alive, but what Roth is giving you now is a _poison_ —”

Jacob shoved her away as his expression twisted. “This has nothing to do with my father!” He bellowed, face flushed red.

Ellie didn’t try to close the distance between them, her expression softening. “Then tell me what it’s about, if not that. I’m sorry if I’ve misunderstood, but I can only tell you what I see. This isn’t about being right or wrong, Jacob—I want to understand, darling. Please, let me help you.”

“I don’t need your help,” he snarled, the words laced with bitterness and resentment.

“Jacob, please,” she pleaded. “I know you think Roth is giving you something you need, but it’s not. Not from someone like him—”

“And who are _you_ to tell me what _I_ need?” He shouted, his anger boiling over in his expression.

She paused as she looked at him, her hands falling to her sides. “I’m not, Jacob. I only—”

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear any more out of you. You’re no different than Evie, or George, or my father. Nothing I do is ever good enough for any of you.”

“Is that how you really feel, Jacob?” She demanded, her expression twisting into a scowl.

Jacob squirmed where he stood, but squared his jaw. “You’ve done nothing but criticise me on this,” he tried, but there was no heat in his voice.

Her frown deepened, fingers flexing at her sides. “It was never a criticism or condemnation of _you_ , Jacob, and you damn well know it, too. Stop posturing. I have only _ever_ asked you to _reflect_ on the things you have done, be they for better or worse.” A beat. “As for Roth, I will criticize the actions and behaviour of lesser men to my last breath, if I must, but I have never, _ever_ criticized you.”

She was right, of course. And he knew it. His mind raced, trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered argument, a kind of mad frenzy overtaking him.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jacob said abruptly. “Roth and I are working together, so anything you say about him may as well be a reflection of me, too.”

“Don’t you dare!” Ellie shouted, surprising them both. “Don’t you _dare_ put yourself down to his level. You are _nothing_ like him, Jacob Frye. You are a better man than he could ever dream of being. How dare you insult yourself that way.”

Jacob felt his cheeks flush with heat again, manic fury boiling up in his guts. His hands balled into fists at his sides. “It doesn’t matter!” He shouted back. “I’ll damn well do as I please, _Eleanor_ , and neither you nor Evie or anyone else can stop me,” he bellowed, pulling his overcoat from the rack.

“Jacob, please, _listen_ to yourself. You’re acting mad, and I’m frightened. This isn’t who you are. Please, darling, just talk to me. Let me help you—”

“ _Shut up!_ ” He stopped her. “Shut up. I don’t need your help, or your concern, Ellie. _I don’t need you_.”

Both of them were staggered by the venom of his words, Ellie looking as if she’d been struck. A hard lump formed in her throat, and she struggled to breathe. “Jacob…” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper, the sound of it brittle and heartbroken.

Regret and anguish settled into his guts like stone, his limbs aching with tension as part of him screamed to take back what he’d said. Anxiety prickled in his chest, and he slung his coat on, his face set in a fearful, bitter scowl—desperately trying to hide the pang of guilt he felt. She wouldn’t look at him, her gaze cast downward as she wrung her hands, trying but failing to hide that she was crying.

Remorse surged up like bile in his throat, fear and doubt seeping in at the edges of his frayed conscience. She was right. Everything she had said was right, but his pride wouldn’t let him admit it. He was desperate not to be left holding the ashes of his mistakes when everything burned down around him, but it felt inevitable. Thoughts raced through his head faster than he could process them, and then her words echoed through his mind again. _Please, let me help you._

She had always been too good to him. Too good _for_ him. And never was that more apparent than now.

He swallowed, his resolve nearly faltering. Squaring his shoulders with a dismissive sniff, no more words passed between them, and he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work! If you liked my writing, the best way to let me know is to leave me a comment! It really makes my day, and helps motivate me to continue! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭♡


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